All Roads Traveled
by The Potter Monitor
Summary: Things have almost calmed down for Harry, but a strange encounter with Luna leads him to a series of situations where his story is played over and over again...each time with a twist that threatens his own reality.
1. All in the Golden Afternoon

Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter. We merely observe and write upon our findings.

Chapter 1: All in the Golden Afternoon.

_All in the golden afternoon,_

_Full leisurely we glide;_

_For both our oars, with little skill,_

_By little arms are plied,_

_While little hands make vain pretence_

_Our wanderings to guide._

_**Lewis Carroll**_

It was a bright and shining summer day at the Burrow; not cool, but not too warm either. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the garden gnomes were frolicking much to Mrs. Weasley's frustration. And on this beautiful day Harry Potter; the boy-who-lived, the man-who-was victorious, the master of death and hero to all witch and wizard-kind, was relaxing in the Weasley's garden.

Two years had passed since that horrible and beautiful day; two years since he faced Voldemort, two years since he had experienced death without dying, and two years since he had once and for all rid the world of the Dark Lord. Peace had come slowly to the wizarding world. For a full year after the fall of Voldemort the remaining Death Eaters had caused a great deal more death and destruction in retaliation for the death of their leader. Eventually they had all been captured, and life was finally beginning to return for what passes for normal among wizards.

Peace had also come slowly to Harry himself. This was only to be expected. For sixteen years he had fought for his life. Ever since Voldemort had attacked him and killed his parents, he had been struggling to survive. Whether it was the abuse and neglect of the only relatives he had left, or the constant threat of the dark lord and his various schemes throughout his school years, Harry had been fighting in some form or fashion to survive all his life. Peace was not the normal state of affairs for him.

He was becoming used to peace though. With the threat of Voldemort gone, his life had begun to turn around. He still had his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, whose relationship had blossomed after the war. Now they were engaged to be married, and he had his own very stable relationship with Ginny.

They had renewed their relationship shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts. She was a godsend to him; she was there for him while he recovered both physically and mentally from the war and the losses that they both endured. They had spent a great deal of time after the war just being together; crying and reminiscing about the loved ones they lost, as well as cuddling and snogging like any other young couple that was in love.

But other than living without the umbrella threat of imminent death, very little had changed about Harry Potter himself. He was reminded as he lay there of a summer not five years before, of laying below an open window listening for some sign in the muggle news of the evil he knew lurked out there. But now he listened for a different sort of sign, and it wasn't long before it came to him.

From his position in the garden, he was the first to hear the sharp crack and the familiar voices rising up from over the hill. He sat up quickly, and turned just in time to see Neville and Luna coming down to the Burrow.

Of all their friends, Harry had sometimes thought Neville the most changed and Luna the least. From the plump and forgetful, often frightened young boy he had first met on the Hogwarts Express, Neville had become a tall and lean figure, always smiling with a face bronzed from hours spent in his gardens.

Luna was slender as usual; her white-blonde hair and deep blue eyes giving her a slightly dazed look that suited her personality well. She waved airily at Harry, smiling. "Hello," she said, "I am so glad to see you Harry."

It occurred to Harry for a brief moment that Luna somehow seemed distracted. But then, it was Luna, and he quickly dismissed the idea.

Neville reached out and took Harry's hand. "I hear there's a party tonight," he said.

The mention of the upcoming party brought a smile to Harry's face. Some thought it would never happen, but Ron had _**finally**_ proposed to Hermione, and tonight was their long awaited engagement party. Mrs. Weasley had been bustling around the house for days, and had just an hour earlier shooed Harry out of the house so she could finish with the preparations for what was promising to be the biggest celebration since Bill and Fleur's wedding. It went unsaid that circumstances were much happier than they had been then.

"You two are a few hours early," Harry replied, "and you want to stay out of the house, Mum's on the warpath." His stomach fluttered a little bit as it always did when he called Mrs. Weasley "Mum", though he did so at her own insistence. He'd felt a little guilty at first, filled with the niggling doubt that he was replacing his mother. But eventually he realized that he nothing could replace the first family he'd ever known. Instead he had found someone who cared for the first time in his life cared for him as a mother should. Once he'd understood that it had been easier to find the words. The final reason for this change of heart had everything to do with the elegant diamond ring he was keeping hidden at the bottom of his trunk.

"So how are you guys doing?" he asked after his friends had settled themselves down beside him.

"Oh, pretty well," Neville replied, "things are growing well in my garden, and that greenhouse Gran bought for me should set up by the end of the week. It won't be nearly as big as the ones at Hogwarts but once it's up I can start growing the interesting stuff."

Harry couldn't hide his amusement over his friend's obvious enthusiasm. With the war over Neville had become much more interested in Herbology. For months it had seemed that every time they saw one another Neville was obsessed with some new, weird plant. After over a year of longing for one, Neville's grandmother had surprised him with a Greenhouse for Christmas. The frustrating wait for the spring thaw had been enough to drive Neville insane.

Of all his friends, Neville's future was most certain. It seemed bound to happen that he would make his career with strange and magical plant-life and with rumors of Sprout's imminent departure from Hogwarts it was widely thought before long they'd be referring to their old friend as Professor Longbottom.

Through an enthusiastic conversation about a cannibalistic flower from South Asia, it occurred suddenly to Harry that he'd hardly noticed Luna. Since she'd arrived she'd given Harry nothing more than a simple greeting. Though she was normally in a state of distraction she seemed much more so than usual. The shadow of sleepless nights was beginning to form under her eyes, and as she stood there she was fidgeting as if she had somewhere else to be. "Are you doing all right, Luna?" he said as Neville broke away and ran over to greet Ron.

"Hm? Oh, I'm as well as I usually am," she said. Used to the airiness, he was unprepared for the faint quiver that seemed to go through her voice.

"Ginny tells me that you've been having some trouble lately." Though he'd chosen his words carefully Luna tilted her face up towards his, frowning slightly.

"No, not trouble. Trouble means things are wrong, you know? Things can be strange and different, and not be wrong. Can't they?" Clasping her hands behind her back her gaze fell back to the ground and she began to hum to herself.

Fighting back his desire to shake her, he instead put his hand on her back and led her around to the side of the house, where several wooden tables had been erected for the party. Neville and Ron were seated near the front door and, seeing Harry, Ron waved him over. He shook his head, glancing pointedly at Luna as she wandered towards the edge of the site. His friend shrugged and he passed back over.

After a moment she settled down at the farthest table, resting her chin on the wood as she looked off into the distance. Ginny's words came flooding back to him, a warning that Luna wasn't quite the same lately. He'd been unable to believe it of course, because how could she be any stranger than she'd always been. But he was beginning to understand what Ginny had meant.

"She's kind of far off," Ginny had explained to him. "Here, but not here. There, but not there." He'd given her a strange look and she'd shrugged. "That was what she said."

The phrase made sense now. Luna had never before felt absent as she did now. A girl lost inside herself perhaps, or confused by the fantasies that she lived her life by. But he might have been able to understand it if it wasn't for the fact that there was a sudden distance between himself and his old friend that he couldn't understand.

He suddenly realized how strange it was that Luna hadn't asked him how he was doing, or told him some story about whatever strange creature was rumored to be wandering the nearby countryside. But even more uncomfortable to him was the fact that she didn't seemed to show her usual over-the-top excitement, even though she was at an engagement party for two of her best friends. Not long before he'd have expected her to arrive with banners and trumpeters, or at the least with some gift she'd culled from some dark closet at her father's newspaper.

"Something is bothering you." He kept his voice low as he slid down beside her. "Luna, I want to know what it is. Is something going on? Have you had any threats?"

Ron's and Neville's voices floated over the clearing. When she didn't reply Harry turned to watch his other friends. Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Ron's yelp as Hermione came spinning around the corner. He glanced over his shoulder as she shouted at him for forgetting he was supposed to be De-Gnoming the garden. The two fell into an argument, in which Ron debated that as it was their party they shouldn't be expected to work and Hermione countered that, as it was their party, they should make certain their guests were comfortable.

"Do you ever wonder if there are other people out there? People like you?" A full minute had passed since he'd spoken to her.

"People like me? There are, I guess. Other people who lost their parents, who had important things to do. People like you, who see things differently."

"That isn't what I meant." She looked him fully in the eyes for the first time, and Harry saw something there that he hadn't expected. Strength. "I know I'm not crazy. What do you think?"

Harry smiled, squeezing her arm. "Luna, with what we've been through we're all a little crazy. But you aren't any crazier than I am."

She smiled for the first time. "I'm glad. I think I like the idea of being as crazy as you are."

They didn't have much time to speak further. Mrs. Weasley soon allowed everybody to come inside; all but an agitated Ron, whose constant curses came through the window as gnomes nipped at his fingers. Soon after the guests began to arrive and there was no time to question Luna further. Nevertheless he stayed by her side. He wasn't the only one besides Ginny to have noticed that something was wrong.

Hermione, as busy as she was, continued to shoot glances over in their direction. Brow knitted together, she began to head in their direction. Each time, Harry found an excuse to pull her away. He was certain that she'd noticed, but even Ginny seemed to be helping by unspoken agreement. She would find an excuse to pull Hermione away whenever it seemed that she was honing in on them.

It was a tactic that might have worked, if Luna hadn't been seated near the main table along with the rest of the family for the dinner.

They were halfway through Mrs. Weasley's famous Yorkshire pudding when, with a sharp gasp, Luna shot up in her seat. Her hands were clutched close to her chest, and she was drawing in deep, shuddering breaths. Harry leapt up and went to her but she held her hand out, keeping him away.

"No, all right…I'm all right, now. Just a bit of a shock. I can feel them now. Can't you?" She looked up, her eyes wild and bright. "Can't you Harry?"

"Come on, let's get you inside." He took her by the arm and began to usher her inside, but she pulled away.

"No, out here in the air is best. In the wind, can't you feel? I can almost touch--!" She reached out into space.

Hermione stood, and began to push at Luna. "Listen, go on in. You need to go on in, Luna. I want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk! I want to be out here!" She began to jog through the grass, kicking off her shoes and pulling her robes to her knees. "Listen, listen to the voices!"

"Luna! Stop! Can't you see you're scaring people?" Hermione said harshly.

"Oh, silly silly! Why be scared? I'm perfectly fine. And so are they! So many of them!" She spread out her arms as if gathering together her unseen ghosts.

"Luna!" Hermione stepped closer. "Please Luna, you need help."

"Oh, no, I'm perfectly all right. Much better! I understand it now, you see, when I didn't before! I finally—"

"FINE!" Hermione screamed, as she only had a few times before. "FINE! If you can't get help now then you'd better find new friends. I don't want to be the one to have to visit you when you're finally committed to St. Mungo's!"

A silence fell over the watching party. People were on edge, waiting for the girls to react. But without a word Luna began backing away and finally broke into a run towards the hilltop where she lived. Hermione, standing stiffly, stared after her, her own eyes glistening with tears. Harry stared from girl to girl. He felt a hand on his arm and he looked down into Ginny, her face pale and drawn.

"Go on. I'll get the brain and you get the blonde."

Without another word Harry broke into a run after Luna.


	2. The Other side of the Hill

**Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter. We merely observe and write upon our findings.**

**Author's Note: We apologize for the long delay in this entry. Several events have occurred in the collective that impeded progress on this report.**

**Chapter 2: The Other Side of the Hill**

Harry was almost out of breath by the time he reached Luna, she had nearly made it to the top of the hill she lived on. "Luna wait! Come back! I want to talk to you!" He yelled as he closed in on her. This had at least part of the desired effect, she stopped and turned around, but did not move towards him. As Harry closed the distance between them he finally got a good look at her face. He was shocked to notice that for the first time since he had ever known Luna there were tears welling in her eyes.

"What do you want to say to me? That you agree with her? Do you Harry?" Luna asked in an uncharacteristically sharp voice.

"Do I what?" Harry replied, shocked by the tone of her voice, a tone that he had never heard from her before.

"Do you think I'm crazy Harry?" she responded in a slow, deliberate tone.

"No, I don't think you're crazy Luna. At least not the way that Hermione implied. Like I said earlier, you can't go through what we went through in the war without being a little crazy, but beyond that you are just as sane as I am. What ever it is you are going through right now, I may not understand it but, I do not and will never think you are crazy." He replied in a soothing tone.

Luna calmed slightly at this, and gave a weak smile. "You're a good friend Harry. Ginny's lucky to have you."

Harry grinned slightly and asked "So what exactly were you talking about back there? Who is this they you kept referring to?"

Luna brightened up a great deal and answered, "They're the others, the others that are out there. Can't you feel them too?"

"No, I'm sorry Luna, I don't understand." Harry replied.

When he said this, Luna got a strange look in her eye. Suddenly her hand shot out and grabbed Harry's wrist in a vice-like grip. "It's easier if I show you Harry, and I feel like I can now. They're calling me Harry, we need to go." She stated as she started to walk towards a small pond at the foot of the hill they were on, dragging Harry with her. Harry was not prepared for the sudden movement of Luna grabbing and pulling him along, and whether he meant to or not he pulled back as hard as he could.

Luna blinked. "What? What are you doing? We have to…"

"We are not going anywhere."

They were standing alone half-way up the hill. On the other side the faint sounds of the party they had just left returned to them. After a long pause Harry sighed. "I'm sorry. This is just…too much. Don't you understand? Why don't we just go back to the party…?"

"Well, we are going to the party, silly." She grabbed his hand again. This time he was so stunned that he didn't resist, and found himself flying down behind her as fast as he could run. It suddenly occurred to him that they were moving far too fast than was necessary. The world was zipping along past him.

"The party is that way, on the other side of the…DAMN IT! Luna, slow down!"

He felt like he was being pulled inside out—more than anything it reminded him of the feeling of apparition, although that was impossible. Where the hell would Luna be apparating to, and taking him with her? Besides, it wasn't quite the same…not as cold. It occurred to him after a moment that he was tumbling down the hillside, and Luna was right beside him.

When he opened his eyes he was staring up at the sky. Several moments later, he remembered to breath. He sat up, turning frantically to look for Luna. When he spotted her she was on her knees in the grass, staring back up the hill from which they'd just come. "Geez." He let out another deep breath. "Are you all right?"

"What?" She turned around, taking a long moment to fix her gaze on him. "Oh, nothing. It took longer than I thought to get here. Oh dear, I hope we aren't late!" She stood up quickly, brushing the grass from her robes. Harry slowly stood up after her.

She had taken off back up the hill. "Come on!" she called as she broke off into a light run.

"What are you talking about? Weren't you going to show me something?" He froze, realizing that his jeans had been splashed to the knee in the pond Luna had been dragging him to. He shot a quick glance to either side, so as not to fall into it again, but it was nowhere to be seen. He paused for just a moment. "What was up with that pond you were pointing at?" he called after her.

"What pond, Harry?" she said. She had already reached a point on the hillside close to where they'd begun to fall. "Oh, come on! Can't you hear the music? It sounds like so much fun."

Hesitantly he followed, thinking for a moment that his entire afternoon had suddenly devolved into some sort of chase. He wished he could be more pleased by her sudden change in attitude. After all, an hour before she had been hearing voices, and now it seemed she was back to being…well, as normal as she ever was. But he knew well enough that nothing happened without a reason. Especially where Luna Lovegood was concerned.

She was waiting for him when he reached the top of the hill. Together they looked back down on The Burrow, same as it ever was. The tables had been cleared and it looked like the party had moved inside, for the most part. Harry sighed. "Hermione is probably pretty angry," he said.

"Hmm?" Luna didn't appear to have been listening to him. "Oh, I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Yeah, if you say so." As they started back towards the house he was able to hear voices inside, though he couldn't make any of them out. "Well, they don't sound too angry anyway," he muttered.

Luna wasn't even trying to pay attention to him. She was humming to herself as she skipped through the grass. "It's a much nicer day here, isn't it?" she said.

Harry was about to question what she just said when he threw his head back up at the sky. The spattering of clouds that had dotted the sky had cleared in a very short time and the sun was blazing overhead. They were getting close to the house when they were stopped by an unfamiliar female voice shouting nearby. Harry reached out and grabbed Luna, stopping her where she stood. They didn't hear the voice again, but not too far away they could hear something running through the bushes.

Motioning for her to be quiet and to stay where she stood, Harry began to creep toward the sound. It was instinct that had him reaching for his wand. Though the war was over, he couldn't be certain that there wasn't still danger lurking in the shadows.

"What's going on?" He turned around, clamping his hand over her mouth.

"Shh!" He pointed out a small patch of shrubbery, where he was almost certain he could see something moving. Luna's eyes grew wide and she nodded in understanding. When he was sure she'd stay quiet he released her, and together they moved towards where the voice had come from. They were hardly further than a dozen steps away when he was able to see two female figures. He was about to take a step closer when Luna grabbed his arm.

"Oh, I wouldn't interrupt them if I were you."

"What? I don't even know who they are. What are they even doing here?"

Luna giggled. "Well, if you don't know after all that time you've spent alone with Ginny…"

Harry paled, as two realizations came over him. The first was that Luna, apparently, had some knowledge of his relationship with Ginny (that many others would attempt to throttle him over…) The second was that he had very nearly interrupted two strangers in a very compromising situation.

"Do you suppose they're lesbians Harry?"

"Come on; let's get the hell out of here." He took off, not even attempting to make sure she was following this time. As he came out of the brush he ran right into a tall, pale boy who was staring at him with a slightly dazed look.

"Oh, did you see them also?"

"I….uh…." Harry was turning as close to a Weasley red as he had ever come. Luna ran into his back and almost sent him flying. Standing on tiptoes and peering over his shoulder, she took notice of the new boy.

"Oh, did you see them also?"

"What?"

"Do all girls do that here?" Luna said, turning her head to the side.

"Not all of them. Just a few. Those do more than others, though if Charlie's father found out I suppose they'd do it less."

He wasn't able to follow the conversation. After several similar exchanges between the two, Harry began to wonder if they might somehow be related. In his experience, the Lovegood tendency towards eccentricity definitely seemed genetic. And the boy certainly fit the part. He was about their age, tall and thin with short wavy hair of almost the same shade of Luna's and round blue eyes that he would bet stayed as perpetually mystified as hers did.

"I'm very glad we came," said Luna finally. Harry caught this last bit on conversation as he ended his observation of the boy.

"Who are you, though?" said Harry bluntly. "What are you doing here?"

The boy turned his head. "I might ask the same of you, Harry Potter. I was certain there was only one of you. It's most unusual to meet two of the same person."

Harry almost reflexively wanted to clasp his hand over his identifying scar. What the boy had meant by that statement was far beyond him. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"Logan Lovegood, of course." Well that settled it. He was a Lovegood. Logan tilted his head in much the same manner Luna did, frowning. "You know, now that I think of it perhaps it may not be best that many people meet the second you. After all, the first you causes enough trouble. Come back to the house. I have cupcakes."

He took off and Luna immediately followed. "Don't…no, Luna…stop it!" she wasn't listening…in fact, seemed very absorbed in something that Logan was saying. "Wait, isn't that your house, Luna? Has this guy been staying there?" he called after them. Neither of them answered, and resigning himself to once again chasing Luna down he caught up.

He was reminded suddenly of a muggle movie he'd once seen. Dudley had thought it was stupid, so naturally the Dursleys had sat Harry down in front of it whenever they were trying to ignore his existence. It had been about a girl named Alice, who'd followed a white rabbit into a wonderland. He was pretty certain that if there was any place stranger than the one he was now used to, Luna would be the one to find it.

End Chapter.


	3. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Dislcaimer: ****We do not own Harry Potter. We merely observe and write upon our findings.**

**Author's Note: We, being of sound mind and collective body, present this latest installment of our archives. It is…most unusual. The collective has labored on how to present this to you for quite a while. It is only a small fragment of what is to come. **

**Chapter 3: Curiouser and Curiouser**

Logan and Luna sat across the kitchen table from Harry. They weren't paying much attention to him, and as confused as he was Harry found himself unable to follow along the train of their conversation. Instead, he had allowed his attention to wander. He took special note of the fact that though it was the same it had ever been, Luna's father had repaired the space somewhat from the destruction it had received during the war.

Destruction that he remembered he had helped to cause. Thinking of it made Harry cringe—he hadn't seen Xenophilius often, since it all ended. The fact that he had turned traitor, though it had been for Luna's sake, had made things uncomfortable for quite a while.

"Mother shouldn't be home until tomorrow. She's covering a story in North Abyssinia." Logan was staring pointedly at Harry, at which point he realized he was supposed to have been paying attention to whatever it was the two of them had been discussing.

"Erm, right." Harry turned his gaze on Luna. "So is your dad around? Maybe we should be getting back to the party…"

"It seems we'll be able to stay here for a little while, Harry," she said. "And I don't think we should go to a party we weren't invited to."

"What?" Harry blinked. "I helped throw that party, Luna. What are you getting at?"

"I think," Logan interjected with somewhat more force than expected, "what she's trying to say is that you should stay put here. This is a different story than the one you're used to. I'm not sure what would happen if you went out there and mucked things up."

"A different…what?"

Harry stood up. "Listen, Luna. I think its best you stay home for awhile. Clear your head—or, just get back to being you. I'm going to go and make sure Hermione's calmed down and see Ginny."

"You won't find them here…" said Luna in a sing-song voice, giggling to herself.

He whipped around. For some reason, there was something discomforting in the way she'd spoken.

Logan stood up also, crossing the room. "I'm afraid she's right. At least, not the people that you seem to know. I'm not sure she even realizes who she is yet…or for that matter, what she is."

"What's wrong? Are they—"

"They're fine. They just…aren't here." Logan placed a hand on Harry's arm, guiding him rather forcefully into the living area. "I think if I showed you it would make it easier."

Harry didn't know why he actually listened. Perhaps it was because Logan, whatever his relation to her, reminded him so much of Luna. But he followed him back and sat down at a large table. Luna followed dreamily, wandering around the room and looking at the things inside as if she'd never seen them before.

Reaching into a large chest that sat in the corner, Logan withdrew a large velvet bag. From this he pulled out a dusty photo album, which was decorated across the front with the word 'Friends' in gold script.

"I started keeping this while I was at school," he said.

"About fourth year," said Luna.

The album had been filled, not with pictures (though there were a few) but with scraps of letters and all of the other things that usually went the rounds through Hogwarts. Logan leafed through it for a while before he finally settled on a page. A picture had been pasted on one side, a piece of paper covered with writing on the other. He pushed this over to Harry.

"That was right before Christmas sixth year. Jimmy's idea, if I remember right. He said we should get something all on paper before you left Hogwarts and went off to who-knows-what."

Harry only heard the latter part of the statement. He was staring at the photograph, in which he saw himself sitting among a group of people who were unfamiliar to him, save Logan at his back.

At his immediate left were two redheads who looked like they could have been additions to the Weasley family. One was a lanky boy with slightly unkempt hair, and the other a tall and thin girl. On the other side of Harry was a bookish looking boy with messy brown hair. Beside Logan was a plump girl with black hair. At the corner of the photograph he could see a giant figure in a familiar moleskin coat.

But this wasn't what he was looking at. His hand rose to his scar automatically as he looked at the version of himself that was smiling at him from the picture. Though Logan claimed it had been taken Christmas of his own seventh hear, he knew for a fact where he'd been at that time. And the version of him that smiled at the girl on his left had never been scarred.

"Who is that?" Harry asked.

Logan said nothing, tapping the paper beside the picture. He glanced at it, feeling a second shock when he saw that the scratchy handwriting that started it was his own.

_I, Harry Potter, do solemnly declare…that Rhonda is a git. (And Herman just punched _

_me for saying that!)_

_Jimmy Weasley declares that Rhonda and Herman need to get over it and snog already._

_RHONDA DECLARES THAT THAT'S RUBBISH!!!_

_Nellie agrees with Jimmy!_

_Logan would like for Herman and Rhonda to admit they were snogging last weekend at the Hogs's Head. Logan would also like to add that he has proof of this._

_Harry would like to see this proof._

_So would Jimmy!!!_

_Herman thinks that Harry and Jimmy are both gits. _

_Harry Potter would like to get back to the original declaration that he was trying to make before Rhonda started being a git. That this merry band of brothers (and sisters…) will remain friends, despite the gitness of some, until such a time as we are all dead._

_Herman would like to state that he thinks Harry overdid that last line._

_Logan thinks it's very nice._

_Rhonda says we should just get over it and sign the bloody thing already._

After that, the dialogue ended. Harry checked the names scrawled across the bottom and found his own. Like the writing on the page, it definitely seemed to be his. And the others…

Logan Lovegood.

Rhonda Weasley.

Jimmy Weasley.

Herman Granger.

Nellie Longbottom.

They were all names he knew, names of people he cared about. Almost. And in each of the signatures there was something familiar, something recognizable.

"This is me?" said Harry.

Logan smiled. "Yes!

"But…it isn't…"

"I'm afraid not. Don't think too much of it, though. I'm sure you're quite as nice as the one I know."

"But…how?"

In all his time in the wizarding world, Harry had come to expect that on occasion he would learn something he hadn't previously known. But those moments had become fewer and fewer as the years went by, the things he learned never of any great importance.

His world hadn't been impacted so much since the day Voldemort fell. And though he wanted to believe, more than anything, that he was dreaming, he knew the world of magic better than that.

"I want so seem him," he said finally.

Logan stood suddenly, a troubled expression on his face. "I don't think that would be right. Somehow, I don't think that two of you together would be at all right."

"But there are two of you here. Because that's right isn't it?" he gestured at Logan and Luna. "Even though you're a boy and she's a girl. You're really the same person?"

"Not the same person. There's never more than one of a person. I'm not even who I once was. But there are two of us…and we're able to be together because in some way I think we always knew we weren't alone. Even when we were."

"I want to see him. Because if he doesn't have the scar…then…" He suddenly felt like he could breathe. Slumping over the table, he let the full impact of his realization hit him. "Voldemort never tried to kill him. And he has parents…right? They didn't die…my mom never had to sacrifice herself to save me."

"It's not the same," said Luna. She came over to his side. "Listen, you can't forget who you are."

"No, I can't," said Harry. "I won't leave this place until I've spoken to him. How are we even supposed to get home?" he said.

"Oh, we'll manage I suppose," said Luna. "Easier one way than the other, I would think. Up the hill, instead of under it."

It took a while to convince Logan to think about giving him a chance to speak to the other Harry. He had little time to think about what the others back home would be thinking when he finally got back. He was bundled off into what he remembered to be Luna's bedroom (changed somewhat, obviously, since it now belonged to Logan).

And it was there that he began to think. He had only just begin to process how much it meant to him that somewhere, out there, he had lived the sort of life that as a child he'd dreamed of. But in the same way, he began to think of what it would mean to tell his other self of the darkness he might have seen.

What would it do to this other Harry, to tell him that in some world his parents were dead, his childhood a story of neglect and abuse? Did he expect this other Harry wouldn't feel it somehow, knowing what things might have been?

And what of everybody else that had died?

He was just beginning to doze off when he heard a faint tapping at the bedroom window. A shape was illuminated behind the curtain. After a long moment there was another tapping and the sound of a voice hissing at him.

"Geez! Are you in there Logan? Let me in!"

Rolling out of bed, he made his way over and pulled the curtain aside. The boy, who he thought he recognized from the photograph, was hovering there on broomstick. "Harry? Geez, I thought I told you to wait a half hour."

Harry pulled open the window and the boy flew in, landing lightly. Now certain that he recognized him, Harry took a step back. "Jimmy?" he said in dull shock.

"Yeah?" The boy turned to look at him, and when he saw his eyes Harry was overcome by both shock and terror. They were eyes he'd seen before—that he'd thought about before going to sleep. They were Ginny's eyes.

"Nothing." Harry took several more steps back. It was one thing to learn that there was a male version of one of his older friends, and quite another to find that there was a male version of the woman that he'd fallen in love with.

It struck him suddenly that for some reason, it seemed most of the people he knew had switched genders. Except for him…maybe it was only because he was here?

"I almost didn't get out of the house. Dad caught me going through the kitchen, thought I was kipping a few biscuits. I actually had to take a couple and go back up to my room just so he wouldn't be too suspicious."

"Dad…" Harry repeated. Was it possible that Mrs. Weasley was now…that was too weird for Harry to even begin thinking about.

"Yeah. I had to go out the window in the twin's room, and I know that they'll use it against me next time they need something." He rolled his eyes. "Bloody women."

Laughing feebly, Harry said nothing. So the list was at Hermione…Herman. Ron had to be Rhonda, and now the twins too… "So…erm…what do you want?" said Harry.

"Oh, direct tonight!" said Jimmy with a laugh.

"Wh-what?"

Jimmy stripped off his shoes and stretched out on the bed. "You know, all this sneaking around really bugs me. I wish Charlie would just out herself already. Soften the blow for when dad finds out I've been running around with Rhonda's best friend."

"Running…around?" Harry paled. "I'm…I mean, you're…."

Jimmy started laughing. "Why do you still get so weird when we talk about relationship stuff, Harry? Come on!" his arm shot up and gripped Harry's pulling him down beside him. He leaned over, and just when Harry felt like he was going to have to apparate to save himself from the situation the door flew open.

He found himself staring at his double, who glanced down at the pair in shock.

"Who are you?" the second Harry cried out. Harry One jumped down as Jimmy yelped and flew off the bed. There was a flash of light—Harry assumed it was meant for him. In the fray that followed he rolled over the edge of the bed and slid under, pulling himself in as tightly as possible.

"What happened? Do you know who that was?" Harry heard his own voice outside.

"Only the twins saw me leave. Probably playing some sort of trick on me," said Jimmy, with more than a little irritation in his voice.

"I don't know. Saw them when I was leaving, they were messing with Mina. Hold on a second." Harry saw a light. From the floor he could see feet pacing the room. He realized only too late the problem with trying to hide from one's self.

Almost immediately the figure stooped down and glanced under the bed. He scrambled out the other side before his double got hold of him, grabbing his wand as he went. From opposite ends of the bed they stood facing each other, wands extended.

"Who are you?" said the double.

"I think you need to find Logan…"

"What does Logan have to do with this?" said Jimmy. He hadn't approached either Harry yet.

"Hmph. Come on then, if you think Logan can explain this."

Without much choice in the matter, Harry followed the others downstairs. The looks that Jimmy was giving him made him more uncomfortable than he'd been in a long while.

They found Logan and Luna back in the kitchen. "Oh hello, Harry," said Logan as they swept into the room. "Jimmy, other Harry. I see you've all met."

"Logan…what?" the double turned around. "This guy says you know who he is. And why he's pretending to be me."

"It's very hard to pretend to be who you already are," said Luna, stirring something in a large copper pot.

"And who is she?" said the double. Luna didn't seem to be paying attention, as she was humming and slowly dropping small radishes into whatever she was making.

"I am she, as she is me, as you are he…and we are all together," said Logan.

"This isn't the time for your games," said the other Harry.

"What he means," said Harry, is that I'm you. Just…not the you that you're used to." He paused. "I've been around these two for far too long," he muttered to himself.

"Have you ever heard of alternate worlds?" said Logan.

"Alternate worlds?" said Jimmy. "Like…like those muggle comic thingies that Rhonda reads?"

"In a way…but with less cleavage," said Logan with a nod.

The other Harry didn't say anything. If Harry was any judge of himself, he supposed his double was thinking the same things he had earlier.

"Do you buy it, Jim?" he said slowly.

"I don't know. Ask him something only you would know."

The other Harry blinked. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Ask him about that birthmark."

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" both Harry's said in unison.

"If he's using polyjuice potion he'd know that anyway," said the other Harry.

"Well, of course he isn't. He's got a scar and you don't, or hadn't you noticed?" said Logan.

For the first time in his life, the mark on his forehead had gone largely unnoticed. Now both his double and Jimmy looked at it. "That's right," said Jimmy. "And his glasses are a bit different."

The other Harry touched his own, unmarked forehead. "Where are you from?" he said finally.

"From the life you escaped."

Over the next two hours, and a lot of explanation, the mess was sorted out as well as anybody could assume it would ever be.

In exchange for his own life story, Harry learned about his double's life. His parents, Jenna and Lucas Potter had defeated Voldemort some years after he was born. His godmother, Samantha Black, had been instrumental in his upbringing, as had the werewolf Regina Lupin.

In his first year at school he'd gotten to know Jimmy's older sister, Rhonda, and the bookish Herman Granger. Over time their group grew to include Nellie Longbottom, and of course Jimmy and Logan. Harry had graduated from school and was the acting male partner of Double Trouble, Jokes and More Inc., which he had formed with Freda and Georgina Weasley.

And he was in love with Jimmy Weasley.

"And you're….straight?" said the double bluntly.

"Well, Harry One's really in love with the same person as Harry Two," said Luna, "so it's sweet in a way."

"Yeah…I just never imagined myself with a girl," said Harry Two (as Luna insisted on calling him).

"Think about how I feel," said Harry One.

"Too bad," said Jimmy. "I was just getting used to the idea of having a Harry harem."

"Bloody hell," said both the Harry's in unison.

"So, why are you here?"

"I don't know."

"I hate to interrupt this party, but we have guests," said Jimmy suddenly. He'd been standing by the window closest to the door and when they turned around the door opened to reveal two tall, curvy redheads.

"Thought we'd come over and warn you that mum knows your missing. Dad's not too happy about it either."

"Yeah, and before you get snippy we didn't say a thing."

Harry One found himself in shock at them. Firstly because they were rather cute. Secondly, because despite that he could still definitely tell they were the same people he knew from back home.

"What're you staring at?" said one of the twins. Harry blushed.

"Are you serious?" said Jimmy, elbowing him. "I know you're straight, but those are my sisters!"

"What the hell?" said the other twin. She'd just noticed Harry Two standing on the opposite side of the kitchen.

"Ohhh, what kind of kinky game are you playing over here Jims?"

"Somebody wants a Harry sandwich!"

After an abbreviated explanation, of which the twins weren't completely convinced at first (until one of them caught Harry staring at something they're Harry would not…), Harry found himself facing what he'd feared.

"So," said Georgina, "what are we like as boys? I bet we're dead sexy, right?"

"Or maybe just dead," said Freda with a snicker.

"No, you've…got a joke shop," said Harry One.

"Real twats, I bet," said Jimmy. "They can't be nearly as sexy as you are."

"Well, Ginny seems to think so from what she's told me," said Luna.

Harry felt the heat in his face.

"That's my name, hmm? Bet its short for Genevra, dad always liked that name." Jimmy appeared thoughtful. "So, what else has Ginny told you…"

"Jimmy!" both Harry's yelped.

"But there's only one of the twins in our world, now," Luna continued, "and he hasn't been the same in a very long while."

"Only…one?" said Freda. Harry One felt his heart sink. It was just the conversation he'd wished to avoid. The twins were looking intently at him.

"Which one?" said Jimmy.

"No. Don't say anything." It was Freda who was holding up her hand. "It wouldn't matter anyway. One of us is pretty much the other. But why?"

"Because in my world evil wasn't stopped early enough. And all of you were the ones who helped me stop it."

"Well, I guess that's noble," said Freda. "I was afraid you were going to say I was locked up in Filches chamber of secrets or something," she sniggered.

"Or sacrificed by Severina Snape for our virgin blood!" Georgina perked up.

"Virgin blood, my ass," Jimmy snickered.

The conversation ended soon after this, which was a relief for Harry. He didn't think he'd ever be the same after realizing that there was a female version of Severus Snape wandering the world.

In the dark and quiet of the night, Harry found his double sitting outside the house. "Luna is pretty sure she can get us back. We're going to go as soon as the sun rises," he said.

"Yeah," Harry Two said. "You know, I always wondered what it would have been like if my parents hadn't killed Voldemort all those years ago. But only in passing, you know? It was never something I had to worry about." He turned around. "What was that like?"

"That was…my life. The Dursleys were horrible, then up until I graduated school I was fighting for my life. And now, working for the Ministry…"

"Yeah. Back when I was a kid and they'd tell me the stories, I thought it was really cool. But when I went to school and everybody started looking up to me, paying attention to me because I was their kid…it changed things for me. I resented them for it. I hated that I didn't get to have a normal life. But that's really selfish, I guess. Really stupid."

"I don't know. I still feel sorry, sometimes. But what if there's another world out there? A world where I'm even worse off? I never used to think about it, but where I come from I have a family and somebody I love. What if…" he trailed off, and they sat together watching the night sky.

He didn't sleep. There was too much for him to think about. In the morning they set off towards the hill, waving to their others before they snuck back into the Burrow.

"That was quite an adventure, Harry," she said with a smile. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Of course," he said. They began walking up the hill. The sun was rising, and it seemed they were walking directly into the light.

As they walked together he heard her laugh as she said, "Harry, this is only the beginning. Of a story without an ending."


	4. The Walrus and the Carpenter

**Dislcaimer: We do not own Harry Potter. We merely observe and write upon our findings.**

**Author's Note: It has been a while since we last saw fit to present our findings to you. We apologize for this delay and hope to present further installments in a timely manner.**

**Chapter 4: The Walrus and the Carpenter **

The last vestiges of the party were scattered about the Weasley's front lawn. The rest of his family was inside sleeping—he glanced back at the house as he passed the decorations to make his way to the Quidditch pitch. It was early enough that twilight was illuminating the mist that still covered the ground.

It was quiet, and Harry needed that. He needed time to think.

He had been in the other world for at least a day, but when they'd returned to the party they had only been missing for thirty minutes. Hermione had been the one to spot them, and almost immediately had issued an apology to Luna. Harry was still uncertain whether or not he'd been thrown into a dream. He honestly felt like somehow he'd lived briefly in one of Luna's delusions.

But it was all real—even if he wanted to deny it all he didn't think he could.

He had managed to get a few more minutes alone with Luna after the party, walking her back to her house. He had managed to get her to explain to him exactly what had happened—what had been going on before she lost it the way she did. He really couldn't understand it all. He didn't think he could understand unless it ever happened to him.

What little did get was that somehow the walls between these worlds were thinner for Luna than they were for him…and that lately they had been growing smaller and smaller until they didn't exist at all. She said she heard voices, and sometimes felt as if she put her hand right out and touch the person on the other side of that wall—the other version of herself.

But he wasn't yet certain of what that meant to him. In the dull moments before he was really awake he had briefly considered writing to somebody for advice, until he realized that anybody he would ever have thought to ask was no longer around. Dumbledore would certainly have known, he thought to himself.

It had been a while since he felt so helpless. First and foremost he was beginning to worry that his world wasn't as safe as he had thought it. And Luna…what was wrong with her? He'd begun to regard his old friend in as sisterly a manner as he did Hermione. The thought that something could happen to her made him feel sick.

He had to at least be sure that she was all right. Rising, he made his way to the house, writing a brief letter to the Weasleys to let them know he was going to be gone and would be back by that evening. Then he left the house to make the familiar trek to Luna's house over the hill.

"Luna?" he walked in through the open door, finding her perched atop the kitchen table lazily waving her wand.

"There you are!" she hopped down, sending several soapy sponges splashing into the sink as she stuck her wand into her robes.

"Were you expecting me?" he said, mildly surprised.

"You're Harry. Of course you were going to come and see me after yesterday. I suppose you want to take me somewhere?" she said.

"To Hogwarts. I want to talk to Professor McGonagall. I'm not sure if she'll know anything…about anything like this. But maybe she can send us to someone who will know."

"Whatever you say, Harry," said Luna, smiling serenely. She took his hand, and before he had a chance to realize what she was doing she had pulled him along with her. He felt the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach and landed with a crash flat on his face. For a moment he almost thought they had landed back in the other world—everything was dark and musty. Then he realized that he was lying in the middle of the Shrieking Shack, and Luna was toppled half over him.

"You forgot we can't apparate onto Hogwarts grounds," said Harry as he sat up, rubbing a sore spot on his arm.

"No. I just think it's more fun that way," she said. They stood, making their way through the tunnel that led to the roots of the Whomping Willow. It had been a while since Harry had set foot in his old school. As he looked at it then, a flood of feelings came back to him. The old castle had set the scene for his greatest triumphs and saddest tragedies. It struck him suddenly to realize that it was in the very shack that he had just left that he saw Severus Snape die.

He forced himself not to linger in the Great Hall as he wandered through the empty corridors, greeting the ghosts as they passed him by. When he approached the gargoyle that led to the Headmistress's office the statue glared at him menacingly.

"Earl Gray." The statue slid away and he and Luna made their way up to the office. The door was open and he could immediately see that she wasn't inside. But part of the reason he had decided to make this trip was inside, and it was to Dumbledore's portrait that he immediately went.

"Ah, fine seeing you again my boy," said the portrait of Dumbledore.

"Always a pleasure speaking to you, Professor." He glanced over, catching a glimpse of the sullen portrait staring at him. "And nice to see you too," he said politely.

"Whatever could bring you back here, Potter?" said Snape's portrait.

"Now Severus, after all this can't you be kind to the boy? If it weren't for him you wouldn't even be here," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling merrily as he winked at Harry. "It seems like you have something on you mind…and I see you've brought Luna with you."

"Hello! Professor Snape, why were you painted with clean hair?" she said, giggling.

"What a joy it will be to hang in this office forever," said Snape's portrait.

Dumbledore was chuckling. Harry couldn't help but smile, but the reason he was there weighed heavily on his mind. "Professor, something very strange happened yesterday. To Luna and me."

The portrait suddenly looked serious. "What is wrong?" he said.

"We…we ended up somewhere else, and Luna can't really explain how, or why. It was like this world, but…different."

"What kind of rubbish is this?" said Snape.

"None at all," said the portrait of Dumbledore. "In fact…in life, I often heard rumors of people who could hear, even touch other worlds that exist alongside our own. I'm not certain why, or if there's a reason it's possible for us to know. I had been collecting these stories in a journal of mine for a number of years. I know that the journal was among the things given away in my will."

"So we really were in another world?" said Harry.

The portrait appeared thoughtful. "That is entirely possible."

Harry felt suddenly overwhelmed. The fact that Dumbledore felt it was possible seemed to force everything out of his dreams and into reality. "Who did you give the journals to?"

"To Remus Lupin."

Harry sighed. He had been hoping for a quick solution—and he should have known at this point that quick solutions were impossible in his world. "I will have to find them, then," he said. "Professor? Thank you."

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course, Harry. I want to warn you though, there is some danger involved with traversing the worlds."

Harry nodded. "I will keep that in mind."

"But it won't stop you, will it?"

He had no reply to that—he wasn't really certain why he had left his own world in the first place, though he was growing more and more certain that it would be the last time. He said his goodbyes and left the castle, walking with Luna to the white marble coffin that held what remained of his old professor before they returned to their respective homes.

"If you hear anything…feel anything, I want you to tell me," he told her as they parted ways. "Dumbledore say's it is random, so we won't know when…"

Luna was frowning, causing him to stop. "I don't agree, though," she said. "There is a reason we're going to these worlds. I'm certain of it."

"Dumbledore said it was dangerous," said Harry, "so promise you won't go anywhere without me."

"It is very dangerous," said Luna, "but I'm not certain to whom." She shook her head. "Anyway, goodnight Harry."

He went back to the Burrow, tried his best to explain away spending most of his day away from home, and did his best to settle back into his daily routine.

It was almost a week later when he got a letter that sent him spinning.

_About to go. Can't hold on for very long. Come quickly._

He grabbed the small bag that he had prepared, which contained a handful of coins, first aid, and his invisibility cloak. Throwing it over one shoulder he rushed out the door, barely stopping to explain to Ginny that something was going on that he needed to take care of.

He ran as quickly as he could toward the hill, spotting Luna running just as quickly toward him. He opened his arms and she flew into them, hitting him at full force. He felt his world go black, and when he opened them again he could no longer see his own world at all.


	5. A Raven and a Writing Desk

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter, we mearly observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 5: A Raven and A Writing Desk**

It took a moment for Harry to recover from his fall, and when he did he found himself looking up into familiar blue eyes. The Luna that looked down at him was older than the one he knew. She looked owlishly at him over half-rim glasses and her long blonde hair was piled on top of her head. He noticed an ink smear across her cheek as she smiled brightly, standing up as Harry and the first Luna both scrambled to their feet. "You're the other Luna," she said, "the one from my dreams. How I've been longing to see you, to know that you're real," she said.

She reached out, twining her fingers through her double's hair and leaning down to kiss her softly on her forehead. "I knew it," she said.

"Of course," said Luna One brightly. "There's so many of us you know, all sort of floating in the air. All you have to do is pick them, and you can look all around the world they live in."

The older Luna was listening closely to all that was said. "You put it so well, love. I put it so well." Her gaze then shifted and fell on Harry as if seeing him for the first time. Her breath hissed out in shock and her eyes widened, the she shook her head and the smile had returned to her face. "You're not him. Not the one I know," she said. Still holding the other's shoulder, she turned to Harry and brushed his arm with her fingertips. "Tell me, how did you come here? You know how dangerous this work is you meddle in."

"I know," said Harry. He watched this new Luna, all the while perplexed by the change he now saw in her. Her voice though soft held a definite firmness that was still unformed in the girl he knew. "But there has to be a reason for my coming here, doesn't there?" he said.

Luna Two smiled at him. "How very like you, Harry. At least, how very like the Harry I used to know to think that way. I suppose then that you know nothing of what's become of the Chosen One of this world?"

She stopped talking, then shook her head. "No, love, you wouldn't I suppose. Go back now or your hurt will be his."

Picking up on one word that she's spoken, in barely more than a whisper, he took a step closer. "Hurt?" he repeated. "Why hurt? What happened here? Tell me!" He faltered on his last words as he caught the look she gave him. "No. No!" he leaned down and clenched the side of the desk that sat beside them. "Is it Ron? Hermione? Were they…"

Luna Two was shaking her head and the truth was suddenly clear to him. "Ginny. She's dead."

"Yes. So I was right--you loved her too, in your world."  
"I don't know how I couldn't," said Harry, confusion coming over him. How could he mourn, when the woman that he loved was still alive and well and waiting for him to return to her? But just the idea that she could be taken from him in any world was enough to stir his deepest fears. Every moment that he had lived in worry during the time of Voldemort's reign seemed suddenly made real.

Luna Two was returning to him with a short newspaper clipping. "It's the first article I ever wrote for this paper," she said, choking back a sob.

_**Tragedy in the Weasley Family  
**_  
_Many were killed in the battle of Hogwarts. It is well known that this was the deciding battle of this terrible war, and dozens were witness to the final destruction of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named by Harry Potter, now known to many as savior. But forgotten too soon are the tragedies we have been forced to endure. In that respect I wish to honor a family that risked everything in the sound knowledge that good must triumph over evil, and are even now proof of the lengths that people will go to for the sake of things that are good and right.  
The Weasley family is our greatest example of this fact. Two Weasley children died that dark night: the middle son Fred and youngest child and only girl, Ginny, who was victim of the madwoman Bellatrix Lestrange. They were survived by five siblings, including Fred's twin brother George.  
Their parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, did not themselves escape harm. Few know that it was Molly Weasley herself who struck the finishing blow to Lestrange, sustaining through this act injuries that left her permanently blinded._

Harry read through the rest of the article in a haze, unable to begin to imagine the family he loved so horribly damaged. Luna Two took it back from him when he finished, returning it carefully to the file.

"That article made me realize why my father started The Quibbler. And it made me understand the importance of truth. Now the paper is mine."

"I own dad's paper?" said Luna One.

"Yes. He went to India, dear, to search for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks." As she said this Harry thought he saw a mischievous gleam in her eye, realizing suddenly that in this world the changes would not be as noticeable, but they were certainly drastic.

If the calendar that graced Luna Two's wall was accurate, then time was advanced eight years. This meant that if Ginny had died during the Great Battle she had been dead for ten. Slowly he looked over some of the older Luna's files that had been left lying out, recognizing names that he knew. Malfoy had married and had a son, Cho Chang had been appointed to a division of the ministry and he was almost certain he might have seen Remus Lupin's name.

Conspicuously absent was any article or mention of Harry Potter, apart from being mentioned in regards to larger headlines. Instead, he saw that an entire wall was devoted to pieces by a writer who called himself the Speaker for the Dead, and although there were some that seemed to be essays most were histories of people who had died as a direct result of Voldemort's dark rule. He glanced at one, reading it to himself. It was a tribute piece to Severus Snape.

_**Severus Snape--**__  
I am the one with a broken voice, and never in life was my story heard. To you I was never friend--perhaps ally, or enemy, teacher or classmate To a great many murderer, and to all at one time I was a traitor. In death the anger isn't so much to bear, and I don't care if I am forgotten. I only find it important that somebody remembers there was a woman once who I loved, and if I had had the strength to be a better man then I may never have been what I became. Bravery is minimal--what is important is where bravery comes from. Most of my bravery came from what remained of my love, and for that perhaps I am the greatest fool that ever lived.  
_

"You know me now, in this world. But something is different. What happened to me?"

Luna Two's smile faltered. "I wish you didn't want to know," she said. "But if you are sure I will take you. But promise you, promise that you won't by changed by what you see."

An overwhelming anxiety was forming deep inside of him, something that he couldn't express or understand.

"Remember," she said. "This man is not you. It is only the person that you might have been. And remember now that I have hope for him yet," she said. She glanced over at Luna One, who was watching a tank full of what looked to be miniature Grindylows. "I will take care of her. I forget sometimes what that innocence was like."

Taking his arm tightly in hers they disapparated to the front of what seemed to be an empty building. "Muggle area of London," she said. "He has wards so nobody sees the front door. He's his own Secret Keeper. I'm hoping…ah, yes."

Harry had stepped forward and the door appeared in the brick. "Magic is not discriminatory, it seems," she said. "It senses that you are who you are. Do you have the cloak?"

Withdrawing it from his robes, Harry covered himself so that he could remain unhidden behind Luna. The place was mostly empty, although occasionally he caught a glimpse of something that he knew. His Firebolt sat covered in dust near a window that had been boarded up, and sitting in front of an open and empty closet was the trunk he'd kept packed for almost seven years. Strips of cloth torn from moth-eaten robes had been used as rags

Luna knocked lightly at the door, and after several moments Harry heard movement from within. He was hit hard when the door opened and he looked upon the man who stood there. A vision of himself, destroyed by the very world he'd tried to save.

His double. He was wearing muggles clothes, unkempt as if he hadn't changed for days. He leaned against the doorjamb, rubbing his bleary red eyes. His jaw was covered in dark stubble and his hair was long enough to reach his collarbone, not having been cut in a week. His hands were scraped, covered in ink. He yawned, looking at Luna with one open eye.

"It's almost finished. I just have to pull out the editing quill and it'll be done. Send George after it later."

"I'm not worried about that, Harry," she said, moving in slowly enough for the Harry under the cloak to sneak in with her. "I have some rather interesting things to tell you." She moved close to him so that she could look into his eyes. With a sigh she patted his cheek. "You look so tired."

He jerked away from her touch, out of reflex rather than rudeness. "I've been writing non-stop," he said. "Fred's took a while."

"I shouldn't wonder," she said. "Our old friend had a lot for the Speaker to say."

From his vantage point underneath the cloak, Harry felt every muscle in his body clench. He thought back to the articles that he'd seen in Luna's office. Watching his double he saw Harry Two turn from Luna. He was both agitated and entranced by what he saw. In the previous world, strange as things had been, his other self had been much the same in manner and appearance.

And yet this man was not alien to him. He remembered how he'd felt in those final years, the fears and the darkness that had fallen upon him and almost severed his friendships.  
Somehow, miraculously, he had been pulled from that dark spiral when the war was over. Never before had he realized what had turned him away from the darkness.

It was hope. The hope of a family, of living the life that he'd always been jealous of when Ron got letters from home or Hermione talked about her parents and some happy memory from her childhood. But the self he looked at had never known that hope, had lost it when Ginny was taken from him.

He was partly that boy who was so filled with anger and sorrow. And he was something else altogether, that Harry One could not understand.

"What is it you have to tell me?" said Harry Two.

"I've had this theory for a while. The Infinite Worlds."

"How can I forget?" he said sarcastically.

"I have proof Harry. More than proof, and it's important that you listen to me. I've seen them. Our doubles. They're here. He's here."

He looked at her for a long moment, then crossed to the door. "I thought you got over this sort of stupid talk a long time ago," he said.

"What's so stupid about it?" she said, her voice rising. "Different thoughts, different ideas. You trust me, Harry. Believe me."

His hand had moved to the doorknob, but as she spoke he sighed and stepped back towards her. "I do, Luna. It's just a lot to take."

"Well. Then I'll show you. Harry?" she looked over to the spot where Harry One stood and watched as he appeared. Harry Two regarded this younger and brighter version of himself with suspicion. But then he saw the cloak.

He crossed quickly to a large wardrobe and withdrew a duplicate of the one that Harry One held draped over his arm. Then he moved to his double. "Let me see your wand," he said.

Harry One held his wand out on the palm of his hand. Harry Two withdrew his own and compared the two. "The same scratch," he said, turning both of theirs so that a faint white mark on the base was visible on both.

"Bloody Hell," said Harry Two in shock.

They spoke for hours, and Harry One began to realize just how far things had gone because of the tragedy that had befallen them.

Arthur Weasley had turned down promotion after promotion offered by Kingsley, unable to leave Molly's side after she was injured. Percy had taken over then. Climbing the ranks through the ministry to take a position as assistant to the minister. And with his new position, Percy had taken measures to push Harry from the family completely, blaming his influence for everything that had befallen them.

Bill and Fleur were living in America, both having taken jobs for Gringotts, and Charlie had remained in Romania, sending money home to support the family. And even Ron was now estranged, not having spoken to his old friend in years. He lived in Hogsmeade and ran the bar that old Aberforth Dumbledore had given up when he retired. Only George it seemed had stayed in touch, working as a reporter on The Quibbler after selling off the joke shop to pay for his family's expenses.

As for the other--Hermione had turned from the wizarding world completely. Her parents had been found and killed by uncaptured Death Eaters soon after Voldemort's fall. Losing her faith in magic's ability to do good she quietly disappeared and opened a muggle bookshop. And it was through her that Harry had discovered the Speaker for the Dead, as reading through the books that she brought him he realized that there was a way to keep them living even after their voices were broken.

They spoke of everything, until finally she was the only thing left to speak of.

Harry One looked down. "And…you were in love with Ron's sister," he said. "You loved her and she died."

"And you didn't love her, I suppose," said Harry Two. His lip quirked. "Then it's a lie, I suppose, to say that it's better to have loved and lost."

"I don't know. I've never really been in love," lied Harry One.

Harry Two laughed. "So? What are we here for, then? Saving the world?'

"I don't know."

"Well," Harry Two stood, "I don't want to be involved. So have a good look around. Be glad you didn't end up a pathetic mess like me. Take this as a warning, stop poking around here or that may be the case." He crossed to the cupboard and withdrew a flask. "Going over the good old days is tiring. Why don't you see yourself out?"

When he stepped back out into the bright daylight the older Luna was waiting for him. She put her hand on his shoulder, falling into step beside him.

"He's broken," said Luna. As they walked Harry felt her pulling her close and they once again disapparated. When he opened his eyes he found himself in a countryside that he knew well. He had spent many summers there in his years at Hogwarts, and only that morning had awakened to look out at the same hills from his bedroom window.

They were standing next to an old graveyard that he'd been in once before, when they had buried Fred after the final battle. Luna pulled open the small gate and they stepped into, walking gingerly along the narrow walkways between stones. Luna led them first to a wide, flat stone. The name Lovegood was emblazoned across the bottom in bold letters, and on the left side was a name that Harry instantly recognized.

**XENOPHILIUS 1950-2002**

Remembering what she'd said earlier he turned to Luna. "You told her he was alive," he said.

"And he still is, to her," she said, smiling sadly.

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to do this. Go to these worlds, if all this pain is all I'm going to find."

"It's your choice," she said. "But Harry, don't waste these lessons. There has to be a reason you're here now."

Silence fell between then again, and the quiet covered them. "How did you get to be this way? Were you ever like her? My Luna?"  
"Of course," said. "I remember that girl. She's so lost, and she feels alone still. It was you who will save her, if you stay beside her as with me."

They began walking again, and as they approached the corner of the graveyard where Harry remembered Fred to be buried they saw a figure bent over in the tall grass. Luna nudged him and once again he hid himself beneath the cloak. The figure stood and, turning, Harry recognized George. He waved and came over.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he said. "The kind we used to go flying in, when we all used to get together."

"Yes. My father would take to the top of our house with a telescope and look for things floating by in the wind," she said with a laugh.

"And instead I get ready to head over to the house of Cecil Drummond, who apparently has a fascinating story about stolen tea kettles in the ministry."

"Well, the Quibbler's mission is to cover all news, great and small. I suspect the nargles," she added, in a perfect imitation of the way Harry was used to her speaking.

They both laughed, and George saluted her before disappearing with a crack. Harry waited a moment before he revealed himself again, and together they made their way over to the corner where he'd been standing.

A bright red cracker adorned Fred's grave, and a spray of flowers colored the dark stone that marked where Ginny slept. The feeling that came over him was indescribable. He could remember the funeral they'd held for Fred. The heavy smell of the earth and the sight of the man who'd almost been his brother laying still in a wooden box, every trace of the humor he knew gone from Fred's pale, drawn face. He could bring up the old hurt easily.

But here he stood over Ginny's cold body and he felt nothing. She was here ten years dead and yet less than ten hours before he'd kissed her warm and living lips, and promised to return to her soon. Despair mingled with relief, knowing that he would leave this wretched place and forget the gravestone marked with yellow flowers. Her soft warm skin would linger in his mind much longer than the cold earth, and soon he would take her into his arms greedy in the knowledge that elsewhere she was lost forever to another Harry, and infinitely more, forever.

Harry was nursing his Firewhisky when he heard a knock at the door. "Damn busy today," he said, waving his wand to send it flying open. He heard a woman curse and looked over to see the top of Hermione's frizzy head over a pile of books. "Wait! Before you knock anything over!" Harry moved to her and took half of the books, setting them down on the counter. "How did you get these up the stairs?" he said.

"I gave your old school trunk legs," she said, setting her pile down. She sighed, stretching. "That's everything you said you wanted, plus I added a few that I thought you'd like. That on top there is a graphic novel I thought you'd like. It's called V for Vendetta."

Harry flipped through the pages skeptically. "A comic book? I remember Dudley used to look at these. It was the only thing the Dursleys could get him to read."

"That one's a bit different. You'll like it. It's about a character who likes running around being mysterious. And living in damn inaccessible places, like lofts ten flights up an empty building."

"I'm a hermit, remember?" said Harry dryly. "It's part of the job description. Being mysterious is just one aspect of it."

"As if you need mystery. You know that most of the wizarding world thinks your dead? The rest think you've been committed to St. Mungo's or retired to Barbados."

"Good. Now if we can get rid of this damn scar I can actually go somewhere without being asked for my autograph."

"So says the most famous author of our world," said Hermione.

"I'm not. The Speaker is."

"Ah, yes. The mysterious Speaker." Hermione pulled a newspaper from under her arm. "I read it first thing when I woke up this morning."

"Finished it yesterday. Had an interesting afternoon, beforehand," he added.

Hermione waited, but seeing that he wasn't going to elaborate further and knowing it would be pointless to ask questions unfolded the paper. "I always like the last lines best. They're so powerful. Snape's was brilliant. You really do have talent."

She traced the lines as she read them.

_I am the one with a broken voice, though I used it enough in life to make up for it's going quiet now. I was once half of a whole, but now I'm just a man who left behind his best friend. I wonder as I wander around here in the world of the dead whether or not my brother still laughs even though I'm not there, or whether all those laughs would have meant anything to us at all if we'd known we'd be broken up so soon. But I somehow have to believe that it was all worth it, and even now I like to think that my greatest accomplishment in life was to die laughing. If all my brothers are still out there, reading this and waiting for something to come along and knock them from their pedestals, they should know that the bad times aren't worth it if you never laugh again. I was Fred Weasley.  
_  
"You've written everybody, then," she said. "Everybody but Ginny."

"That one was probably my last. I can't write one for her, Hermione. God knows I've been trying." He clenched and unclenched his fist, and she imagined yet another sleepless night scribbling his posts by candlelight. She knew that he had become used to the life and it saddened, as deep inside she knew he had so much more potential than living as a virtual shut-in. It was made worse because she knew that she had become a part of his shrinking world, providing him with an outlet in the form of the books she had shuttled to him for the better part of six years.

They were muggle books, and many were ones that he remembered from his childhood going to regular schools at first. From there she had introduced him to old friends in the form of Shakespeare and Chaucer, George Orwell and Alexander Dumas. He had even reread a book that he'd first read when he was eight years old, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Never before had he realized exactly how it had felt when he was eleven years old to be thrown into the world of magic. He had known nothing of it before, and as strange and beautiful as it had been so many things had made so little sense that he'd constantly felt he was going to wake up at any moment from a wonderful dream.

Like Hermione, he'd learned that there were some things in books that could never be found elsewhere. These were suppliers of beauty in a dark world that was his own creation.

Hermione lingered for little more than an hour before she had to return to her shop. Left alone in his flat, he slid his finger down the spines of these friends. He thought back to Alice in Wonderland. There was another Harry running around, he mused, a Harry from some sort of Wonderland where he was undamaged by the war. He was suddenly overwhelmed by his loneliness.

Crossing to where he had laid his cloak earlier, he paused for a moment before throwing it over his shoulders, a glimmer of Diagon Alley in his mind.

In her own shop, Hermione was sitting at the counter and reading a history of the Celts when a faint jingle alerted her to the presences of a customer. "I'm closing in a few minutes," she called out. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

She felt a prickle on her skin when the intruder poked his head around the corner. "I've found everything I'm looking for," he said. "But if you have a moment to spare, how about finding me information on why talented witches decide to waste their gifts living among muggles?"

"Stop it." She slapped his hand away from a display that he was meddling with as she crossed over. "You know he did a new piece, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I reread it a dozen times, I think. It's the best he's ever done but he's too stubborn to realize what he's doing to himself when he writes them."

"He's healing," said George. "I know because that's what it does to me when I read them. When he finally writes hers, do you think things will start to get better?" he asked.

She turned from him, letting silence fall between them before she found her voice again. "Get better? How, George? Things are what they are."

"A damn mess is what it is. Percy running the show at home, Bill and Charlie have disappeared, and Ron pretending it isn't happening over at Hogsmeade." He saw her stiffen when he mentioned his brother's name and felt an uncommon heaviness in his heart. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mention--"

"That's not it," she interjected. "I'm happy here, George. And what business is it of yours?" Tears were glazing her eyes and he saw them no matter how hard she tried to hide them.

"I'm sorry, damn it. I'm sorry." He wiped her tears away with his thumb, lingering for a moment on the spray of freckles he suddenly noticed across her cheek. Pushing away his feelings, he stepped back. "Do you still miss him? Are you still in love with my brother?" he asked.

"Just go, George," she said. "Please, just go."

In another shop whose glass windows looked out on the most famous street in all of magical London, Gabrielle Delacour was finishing her work for the day. Ollivander's Wand Shop was much changed from and dark and dusty place it had once been, and now seemed open and sophisticated. Dark blue curtains shimmered at the windows and the counters were mahogany, traced with silver in magical runes. Though not completely retired Ollivander had long since given his shop over to his young apprentice, who matched young wizards and witches with their wands even as she learned Ollivander's age-old secrets for herself.

It was already said that the younger Delacour's influence seemed to have made Ollivander's wands more modern and unique, and certainly the introduction of Veela's hairs had given rise to an epidemic of love charms and glamours at the schools. But overall even the old master himself had little that he could say about Gabrielle, chosen among thousands worldwide to be the inheritor of his art.

As she sorted the wands she'd looked at that day, she heard the door open and close. "I'm closing, but I can make an appointment with you tomorrow morning if you'd like," she said. When nobody responded she turned around to face an empty room.

The curtains slid closed and her heart did a backflip, settling again once she saw Harry appear from the shadows. "You scared ze life out of me," she said breathlessly.

"Wouldn't want to do that," he said, looking down at her. She was shorter than her sister, with a plumper frame, and her silver hair was cut to her jaw line. Her face was rounder than Fleur's too, though her eyes were much the same. Big and blue, with the spirit of the veela sparkling within.

He had known her instantly when she had appeared at his door, though he hadn't since her since the wedding of Bill and Fleur. He had already been in hiding for a year, and it had annoyed him to be found. But he had quickly realized that Gabrielle was not a force to be reckoned with, nor to be ignored. She had found him by paying very close attention to Hermione, who she found in a muggle bookshop just on the other side of Diagon Alley.

And somehow she had convinced him to help her in her quest to become Ollivander's apprentice.

At seventeen and recently graduated from Beauxbatons, the young Fleur had worked for the summer with a French wand maker in Paris, until word came that the old man was retiring and looking for a young man to take over his enterprise.

In her desire to take the position, Gabrielle had found Harry and learned everything she could about his wand and it's strange reactions, formulating her own theories about the matter.

Harry had written the paper out for her in English, taking on the role of tutor that Ron had so jokingly given Bill years before.

And so Gabrielle had remained, an unusual friend in a world where, for Harry, they were few.

"You are needing something? You are not usually leaving your flat, no?"  
"I need a favor," he said abruptly. "A ghost writer."

"A ghost writer? Zen you weesh to keel me?"

"No. Listen, Gabrielle, we've written together. Worked together. I can tell you what to write and then I can edit it.'

She looked up at him for a moment before realizing what he was asking her to do. "Oh, no 'Arry. Eet is your own story. I cannot write it for you."

"I've tried. A hundred, probably a thousand times, but the words are always wrong."

"Zen you are not leestening," she said. "Harry, ze wizard does not choose the wand, but the wand the wizard, no? So why not let the words choose you?"

He laughed, despite the heaviness that seemed to have fallen on the both of them. "When did little girls with French accents get so wise?"

"I 'ave always known what I wanted, 'Arry," she said. "But one must play ze fool in ze fools game."

Harry could say nothing in return.


	6. I Have not Seen Thy Sunny Face

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter, we merely observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 6: I Have not Seen Thy Sunny Face**

By the time he returned to his flat, Harry was deeply dissatisfied with the conversation he'd had with Gabrielle, and coupled with the events of the past several days he was ready for anything when he opened up the door. He was not surprised then to find his younger self reclining on the sofa. He raised his eyebrows at Harry One. "Persistent," he said.

"Aren't you?" Harry One shot back, nodding to the paper-covered desk on the other side of the room.

"Yeah. I guess so," he said. "Where's Luna?"

"Watching over Luna."

"Yeah?" Harry Two rubbed his palm over the stubble on his chin. "Needs it, if I remember right."

"Else the nargles will cause some mischief, I'm sure," said Harry One.

They both laughed and Harry Two shrugged. "So. Same memories, then. Same schools, same childhood. The Dursleys, the cupboard…"

"The spiders," Harry One added.

"Yeah. But where do your memories stop and mine begin?" said Harry Two. "You say you don't know what it was like to love her. You don't know what it was you missed. Sometimes I think she was the only thing that really kept me going, hoping I'd live through it so we'd have a chance to be together. Before I left to find the Horcruxes, on my seventeenth birthday.." he broke off, turning his head. "She took me up to her room to give me her birthday present. And she kissed me--and not like we were in school. Like she knew it might be the last time." He closed his eyes.

"I didn't know it at the time but that was the moment I fell in love with her. I can still remember the way she felt. The way we felt together," he said, faltering.

Harry One listened, his heart pulsing in his chest. And he realized suddenly that, though he'd never thought of it, what his double was saying was true. He thought back to that moment, of touching her when he knew that he would more likely die than live, and of wishing in that instant he could just go on forever doing nothing else than stay alone with her and forget the rest of the world.

And it was love that had carried him through those deep, dark months.

Before long, a knock at the door interrupted the silence that had fallen. "Better be Merlin," Harry Two muttered, moving away. He glanced back to make sure that Harry One had hidden himself before he opened the door.

Harry One watched as Gabrielle entered. "I thought about eet," she said, "and although I can not be your writer, I can 'elp you somehow if you will let me."

"I shouldn't have asked, anyway. I'm just frustrated." He followed her around to the table, where Hermione's books were still piled.

"You need to write eet. I have been hoping you would for a very long time," she said. "I need you to. You know zat I love--"

"Don't." He cut her off, beginning to pull away. She reached out and held onto his arm, stepping towards him. Tilting her head up, she looked into his eyes.

"I know. I know 'ow you hurt. But I also know that you have so much more, you can geeve so much more. These years 'ave been for her, but now eet is time for you to find ze life you want." She put her head on his chest for a moment, taking a deep breath. "So why don't you figure out what zat ees?"

He kept his hands on her shoulders, as a thousand conflicting motions went through him. Instinct told him to draw her close as another part of him told him to pull away. Her wit, her beauty engaged him as much as the heart he knew had more room than most other he'd ever known. Her light shined in his dark world and pierced through the clouds, and if not for the shadow…

Harry One watched them together from underneath his cloak. Although he couldn't imagine moving on to any other woman if the Ginny he knew left him, he also knew that ten years was a long time to hold on. He wondered what he would have thought if it was Ginny standing there, mourning him. And he would rather see her have a chance for the family she desired, the love she needed than to see her alone.

Gabrielle did not linger long. Harry Two was sitting at his desk when Harry One came over to him. "I lied," he said bluntly.

Harry Two looked up at him. "I lied," Harry One repeated. "I told you that I never loved Ginny. But I did. I do."

"You let me think she was dead," he said after a moment, menacingly calm.

"She isn't. And I love her. And I think I'm going to marry her," he said finally.

"Why the hell are you telling me this?" Harry Two growled.

"Because I know her, better than you ever did. And you aren't giving her credit if you think she'd want you to be alone. She wouldn't want to know that you've spent your life in the shadows, living through your quill."

"Who are you to lecture? You're the same damned person," he said. He felt an uncommon anger, radiating up and down his spine.

"I'm not. Ginny's the reason for that. She taught me that you can't go through life alone," he said. "And if somebody wants to spend their life with you and you don't let them, you might as well have gotten on the train when Dumbledore gave you the choice."

It was the scarcely remembered moment in the land of the dead that hit Harry Two the most. He remembered the peace there, how quiet it had been and how tempting it was to leave the dark world forever. And the thought of Ginny hadn't been the only thing that kept him moving.

"You came back from the dead knowing that you'd live," said Harry One. "Knowing you'd get the chance for the family you didn't have growing up. You're throwing it away."

Harry One left, and in his apartment the other Harry was left alone. It was quiet, desperately quiet as it always was. He left the desk and went to sit at the window, watching the world move about below. Closing his eyes, he wondered what Ginny would tell him if they could speak now.

And suddenly the silence was rippling with voices. Moments turned into hours, and hours crawled into the night, and for the first time Harry did nothing but listen. As the sky began to lighten Harry went to his desk and set quill to paper. In these moments she spoke to him one last time. As the words were written Harry realized it was a song of goodbye.

****  
_Ginevra Weasley was the daughter of hope, only girl in a tribe of wild brothers until the moment when darkness fell into so many lives. How anybody can even begin to understand what it meant to have that precious light taken is beyond me, as even now my mind reels at the possibility of imagining that I won't wake up tomorrow and I'll have come out of some terrible dream._

_Many people don't know her story, or how important she was to the so-called Chosen One. In the history books she has been forgotten, and is remembered now only as a name etched into the stone that stands at the entrance to Hogwarts. Every name that I have written about can be found upon that tomb--Aurors who died there, members of an order who died in the service of their cause, and far too many who were far too young to have been part of the chaos._

_I saw the final battle with my own ideas, and Ginevra was magnificent. Alongside Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger she did battle with the Dark Witch herself, Bellatrix Lestrange. She was taken by the smallest of spaces, the killing curse striking her down by chance more than design. And her mother saw this and took the Dark Witch down, herself wounded gravely by the act in return._

_Anybody who wishes to see the consequences of ignoring evil need look no further than the cold marble that marks the place where Ginny now sleeps. A girl with so many hopes that she shared in whispered midnight confessions and on the wings of a snowy owl, a girl who never imagined that her life would end at seventeen._

_Hers is the voice that could never be broken, and even as she lays ten years dead I still hear her whisper to me when I'm on the verge of dreams, and again when I awaken. And I now begin to realize what she says to me. To be faithful to her memory I must begin to let go, though never forget, to release myself from the pain of her loss. And though she was the woman I loved I see a light of her creation at the end of this dark tunnel. I will follow it and if you wish me to love again then I will find the one you send for me. I will be happy for my sake, knowing finally that this is what would make you happy too._

_I ask that all those who loved her gather also. Follow the signs that come, that we may remember the most beautiful soul we ever lost.  
_

Every Weasley read the paper in the night before it was delivered. They arrived in silence, appearing on kitchen tables and on front porches long before The Quibbler was due to arrive, each with a small silver coin in a velvet pouch. George, acting as phantom, took them himself. Near his family home he stopped at a quiet graveside, where he laid the paper on the spot where his sister lay quiet. He pressed her coin into the moist earth and covered it, lingering for a moment before disappearing to make his final stop.

The Hog's Head was different than he remembered it. It was far less dingy and far busier, filled with teachers who had stayed around for the summer and locals looking to get away from the crowd at the Three Broomsticks.

Neville nodded to him as he walked in, and Ron stood at the bar wiping down the counter. He looked to be lost in thought. As he went over to him George saw that a copy of the paper was already out on the bar, and looked as if it had been read and reread a dozen times already. Luna was sitting on a stool, head down as she sipped a Butterbeer. "Beat me to it, boss?"

She glanced up. "I wanted to see Ron anyway, so I thought I'd go ahead and bring a copy. Hope you don't mind, love."

"Why would I? Ron, give me a drink will you?"

"Hmm?" he looked at George for the first time. "George! What are you doing here?"

"I was going to bring this," he said, waving the paper.

"Luna already brought one."

"Oh, did she?" George sat down in front of his brother and took the drink that was offered him. Nothing was said between them for a long moment. Finally Ron slapped the rag he held down on the table.

"You could have told me. You of all people," said Ron in disgust.

"He didn't want us to," said Luna, as if repeating the statement.

"But who the hell are you to do what people ask?" he said, pointing at George.

"Lay off him," bit George. "He never wanted fame. You think he needs it now? The Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One turned Bestselling Novelist? Next thing you know he's signing copies of his latest book. And don't forget how he's supposed to sign his letters with little lightning bolts."

"George," said Luna gently, "now isn't the time to start fighting. I thought you were the one who wanted to restore the peace?"

"Doesn't mean I have to start with this git," he said bitterly. "You know Harry blames himself for all of this, anyway. He doesn't need Percy shoving it down his throat, or you avoiding him because you think he doesn't get how messed up our family is because you sat next to him on a train however many years ago."

"Well he's an idiot if he thinks that," said Ron, though he looked properly chastised. "I bet Hermione thinks so too. I'm guessing you also know where she is?"

Luna laughed. "Yes, we do. And she's fallen in love with your brother."

George's head jerked up and he paled, as Ron whipped around to stare at him. "You two?" he said.

"No. No! I…I mean, yes, we care about each other. But…"

"That's great!" Ron said. He looked back at Luna, who was smiling at the brothers. She reached out and placed her hand on Ron's wrist, and seeing the connection George began laughing.

"You mean…all this time…how long have you two been together?"

"A year, or so," said Luna. "Oh George, I hope you don't mind. I've been trying to get this all worked out and…well, I guess until recently I always thought the same thing you did. That Ron and Hermione still cared for each other."

Ron picked up the coin, tossing it and catching it on his palm. "This meeting tonight. She'll be there, and I can promise the both of you…when I hug her, it'll be like a brother finding a long-lost sister. Can you believe that, George?"

"Yeah, and you better be telling the truth." He leaned forward onto his elbows, whistling merrily for a moment. "Because bro? That's my woman. And I'm glad you were stupid enough to break up with her."

Turning from them, Ron pulled down a poster of the Chudley Cannons and replaced the front page of the paper in the frame. Without ceremony he mounted it back up on the wall, where like Luna's office dozens of articles written by the Speaker for the Dead now hung. Some had yellowed with age, others were white and very near hung the article only a few days before written for a fallen brother.

Centermost behind the bar was a portrait of the Weasleys as they had once been, with Harry in his proper place at Ron's side.

____

The last place most people would have expected Hermione Granger to show up was the offices of The Quibbler. She had been gone for about as long as Harry Potter had been, though there were no rumors about her departure. A few had seen the little bookstore she kept as they passed on their way through London, and others were certain she'd simply given up and disappeared to some foreign country.

Lavender Brown, head of horoscopes, almost fell from her chair as she spun around to watch her old classmate stride down the hall. Hermione was looking at every name on every door until she came to the end of the corridor.

On George's door was a portrait of the editor of the Daily Prophet, obviously riddled with pinholes from darts. He sat at his desk, mumbling in a low voice as his quill jotted notes of its own accord. Eye closed, he almost seemed asleep as he leaned back in his chair.

She knocked lightly at the door, prompting a grunt.

"I'm not covering the Screwt Festival, Adams," he said. The quill began to scribble this down and he cursed, sitting up quickly.

"I wouldn't. It sounds awful."

Swinging around in his chair he saw her standing there. She wore robes for the first time in years, light blue. "See a ghost?" she asked when he said nothing.

"No. You're not the one supposed to be dead. But I wasn't expecting another surprise today."

"The mysterious Speaker, revealed." Coming around she sat on the edge of George's desk. "I always knew he'd eventually write it. And I kept wishing he'd get on with it, but now…you know, it is kind of sad. Because it means we're starting to let go."

"Letting go is hard," George agreed. "But it's got to happen. We're different people than we were, aren't we? But change is hard."

"But it happens. People's feelings change."

"Hermione." George restrained himself from touching her and moved around to the other side of the desk. "I know that something is going on. With us. And all this time I've known that you were meant for my brother."

"George!" she said in irritation, sitting upright.

"But see--"

"I was meant to fall in love with whoever I damn well please!" she snapped, hitting him in the shoulder with an agitated shriek. She pummeled him for several seconds before she saw that he was shaking with laughter, even as he grabbed at her hands to stop the attack.

"Which is why--"

"George, I don't want to discuss this if you're going to--"

"Hermione!"

"Damn it George! What?"

He pulled her down towards him and crushed his mouth against hers, pushing his hands through her hair to undo the tidy plait she had put it in. She fell forward and he pulled her into his lap, letting her arms wind around his neck. Eventually they broke apart, gasping.

"Is that the only way to shut you up?" he said tenderly.

"I don't know. Kiss me again and we'll see."

_______

They gathered at sunset. Unable to think of the details himself Harry was glad to see that George had thought to bring bouquets of yellow flowers, sunny blossoms to be laid upon the rippling lake. Though only two dozen coins had been sent out many more had come, as word had spread. Many were there from school, and from the DA. Dean Thomas respectully appeared with his arm around his wife, and all of the living Order had found the time to come. Kingsley Shacklebolt, not acting in capacity of minister, mingled with the crowd as they told their stories--not only of the daughter they had lost but of the friends, brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers that had fallen in the Second Wizarding War.

Many thanked Harry for the stories, for giving those who had died a second chance to speak what had not been spoken in life.

And the moment she arrived Molly Weasley asked to be led to Harry on her own two feet, leaving the wheelchair created for her in the grass. Leaving her husband's arms she fell into Harry's. They both looked older than he remembered, Arthur thin and gray, Molly so much less vibrant than the woman he knew. "Read it to me, my son," she whispered, "If I can't read it myself I'll hear it from you."

A hush fell as he began to read, his words echoing across the lake. Everybody listened, the Speaker for the Dead now a living and breathing being, and none other than their own savior. And when he finished another paper was handed over, and another that had been brought. The land had settled comfortably into night when he had read every story, people otherwise forgotten as casualties and until then remembered only as names in the stone marker outside the school.

Gabrielle stood with her sister, watching as first Bill joined Percy and his parents, then George and Charlie, and finally Ron, who watched at his lost friend, approached him. After an awkward silence Percy coughed and gave Harry his hand. "Nice to see you," he said.

"You too, Percy," he said.

"So," Ron started, "you keep up with Quidditch these days?"

Harry grinned. "Chudley Cannons almost got to the semifinals."

"One more year, mate! Free drinks all around if they make it next time!"

It was much later when Harry saw a foot appear and vanish at the edge of the woods. Excusing himself he made his way over, gesturing for the ghost to follow him beyond the veil of trees.

Harry One appeared and his older double nodded to him. "I have to thank you," he said. "I don't know how to explain. Now that I know she's alive, somewhere, I know I can go on. Somewhere there's a girl who'll live her dreams, who'll have the life she always wanted."

"I can't imagine it's easier," Harry One said.

"Not easier, no. But possible." He looked at the people across the way, finding a woman with shining silver hair. "There's a woman who loves me, and I care for her. And I've been ignoring her for a lost cause."

"Think it'll work?"

"I don't know," said Harry Two. "All I can hope is that we give each other happiness in the moments that we can. The people you love could be here forever or leave you tomorrow. We know that better than anyone. And that's all anybody can hope for."

The Lunas approached them from the darkness, and the younger Luna took the younger Harry's hand. She looked at him mysteriously and smiled. "Thank you," she said softly, leaning into him. "I can feel home. Let's go Harry."

They took a step into the growing shadows and were gone.


	7. How I Wonder What You're At

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter, we merely observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 6: How I Wonder What You're At?**

"Mr. Weasley, I wanted…well, I mean…can I talk to you about something?"

Arthur Weasley looked up at Harry from across the beaten-up muggle toaster oven he was tinkering with. "You know you can talk to me about anything, Harry," he said. He stood up straight and wiped his arm across his face, leaving a long black streak along his cheek. "What is it?"

"Er…" Harry had planned out what he was going to say, had probably been planning it from the moment that he'd decided to marry Ginny, but every single word he'd had planned had mysteriously disappeared from his head. "Well…dad….sir…Mr. Weasley…"

"What's got you so flustered?" said Mr. Weasley with a chuckle. "You're acting like…" He turned and stared straight at Harry. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"No, no. Nothing like that." He pushed his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming interested in a plug sitting on the workbench so he wouldn't have to look up into his (hopefully) future father-in-law's eyes. "Well, you see, it's about Ginny. And me. The both of us."

There was a clank. Harry glanced up and saw that Mr. Weasley had dropped the part that he'd been holding on to. "Y-you? And my daughter? Should I go and get Molly?"

"What? No!" Harry said quickly. He wasn't sure what Mr. Weasley was thinking but it was obviously wrong. "It's not that. Nothing has changed between us. Not yet, anyway. I suppose what I'm getting at is I'd like things to change between us."

"You'd…like…"

"I'd like to ask Ginny to marry me. With your blessing. And Mrs. Weasley's too, I suppose. And…I guess I should have asked if there were any traditions in the wizarding world I didn't know about…is there anybody else I need to talk to? Rituals or…"

"Harry." A large hand clamped down on his shoulder and he looked up to see that Mr. Weasley was smiling broadly, with something that might have been tears at the corner of his eyes. "You've been a member of our family since that first summer you stayed with us. We'd all be glad to finally make it official."

"Oh." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly realizing that he hadn't taken a breath since he started talking. "Thank…you. Thank you!" He smiled then, a wave of happiness coming over him. Before he realized what he was doing he'd thrown his arms around Mr. Weasley, hugging the man for what was probably the first time in his entire life. "I'm glad I got that over with."

Arthur chuckled. "Not quite. Now you've got to ask Ginny."

"Yeah." He felt what might have been a wave of nausea in the pit of his stomach. "Right. Er…any advice on how I do that?"

"Oh, I don't," said Arthur, wiping his hands on his robes. "Don't do any fancy magic, you'll just screw it up…accidentally turn roses into toads, or set fire to her best robes…don't know what kind of answer you'll get if you do that."

Harry laughed weakly. "I wonder," he said, "what she'd do if I did that?"

Mr. Weasley shrugged. "You never know. In my case, she said yes." He walked away whistling, leaving Harry alone in the old shed listening to the rusty chatter of a cage full of enchanted corkscrews.

***

A full week later, Harry still hadn't been able to muster up the courage to bring up the subject with Ginny. A part of him kept saying that it shouldn't be that difficult—after all, he had faced the most evil dark lord in recent history surrounded by a hall full of his supporters, had even returned from the brink of death, and yet saying four little words was proving far more terrifying than either other task.

They were making their way down to the river that ran through the nearest muggle village, hidden beneath the old invisibility cloak. The townsfolk were busying themselves with getting ready for the end of the day, and never even noticed the two individuals that passed through.

"This is an awfully strange place to go for a walk," said Ginny with a giggle, snuggling closer to him.

"I just wanted to get out somewhere different…that we hadn't seen before. Away from the Burrow," he said, hoping she wouldn't detect the tension in his voice.

Apparently she didn't. She laughed again—when had she ever laughed like that before? So…girlishly? It made his heart flutter every time she did it. They bypassed the village and went right down to the edge of the lake, just out of sight of any passing muggles.

They pulled off the cloak and sat down on a small outcropping of rocks. The sun was hovering over the edges of the forest, and they were both quiet for a little while—Ginny savoring the romantic moment, and Harry because if he thought he said anything just yet he may faint.

He felt her hand wrap around his. When he looked over at her she smiled. "This is nice Harry."

"Yeah," he said, his mind a little scattered. "Pretty."

"No, I don't mean the scenery. I mean being here, with you. Just the two of us." She leaned in and kissed him, but the snogging did little to ease his nerves. He broke awake from her a moment later, and stood up.

"You're turning red," said Ginny, slowly getting to her feet after him.

"Er…yeah, sorry," he said, laughing nervously.

"What's wrong?" She frowned then. "You're acting like something's going on. And you've been acting a little strange for the past month. I want to know what's going on."

Harry hadn't realized that Ginny had picked up on his frayed nerves. Although the decision to marry her had been made months and months before, he had thought he had at least a year…probably a little longer…before he was really ready to ask her. But the events in the other world a month before had made him realize that he didn't _want_ to wait any more.

"Nothing's going on. I mean…well, something is, but it's nothing bad. I hope."

"Well?" Ginny folded her arms in a very Molly-like gesture.

"I just…"

"It's this thing with Luna isn't it?"

Harry stopped in midsentence. His hand was in his pocket, curled up around the velvet box that contained the ring.

"What do you mean this thing with Luna?"

"After the engagement party. Something happened that day and you ran off with her. Then the next day you disappeared with her again, for a few hours. It's not that I don't want you helping your friends…she's my friend to. But I worry that you…" She broke off, glancing at the ground.

"That I what?"

"That you take on too much."

Harry blinked. "Well," he said, "if I don't, who will?"

Silence fell over the both of them for a long moment. Finally Harry shook his head. "That's got nothing to do with this anyway. Ginny, I just wanted to ask you…"

He was starting to sink down to one knee when he heard a voice from over the hill. "Harry! Harry, I knew I could find you here!" He could see Luna running towards them.

"Not again. Not now!" he moaned, standing back up. Luna ran right up to him, an eager look on her face.

"It feels pleasant in this one! And Ginny…why, Ginny should come to!" She reached out, grabbing Harry's and Ginny's hands at the same time. And before he had a chance to say no, to warn her that perhaps it wouldn't be best to take Ginny to worlds where she was dead, or male, or…whatever…they had already fallen into the void.

"Ow…" Harry rubbed his head. He opened his eyes and looked directly down onto a stone floor.

"Wha…Hogwarts? How did we get here?" said Ginny, sounding dazed.

"Hello!" Harry, Ginny, and Luna all looked up into the eyes of a very skinny young girl about thirteen years old, with long straggly blonde hair and big blue eyes. "My name is Luna. And you probably shouldn't be here, but you look interesting so I won't tell anyone."

Ginny looked over at Harry. "Please explain," she said in the deadly calm voice that Harry knew, from knowing Mrs. Weasley, meant business.


	8. We Are But Older Children, Dear

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter; we merely observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 7: We Are But Older Children, Dear**

"Explanations later," said Harry, pulling Ginny to her feet. They were standing in the hall outside the Ravenclaw common room, with what appeared to be a much younger version of the nineteen-year-old Luna who was with them. "Come on, let's get out of sight," he said, grabbing Luna's arm and pulling him along with her until he found a vacant classroom.

Younger Luna followed them. She was staring at the older version of herself with her mouth open slightly, as if in awe. "You're very pretty," she said, "although I think I've seen you before."

"Of course you've seen me before," said Luna, smiling at the girl.

"Is she…" Ginny leaned in to Harry. "Is that what this is about? Some sort of weird time-travel thing gone wrong?"

"No…I…I don't really know how to start explaining it. But this isn't the world we know, Ginny. We're strangers here. This is _her _world."

They looked over at the young girl who was still trying to work out why the three strangers she was faced with seemed so familiar. Finally her face lit up. "Oh, I remember now! I had this strange dream, with an older version of me in it. That must be you, only it means it wasn't a dream after all."

"Oh," Ginny said in astonishment, shaking her head. "That is definitely Luna. Nobody else could talk like that…and make sense. Not that she ever makes much sense…"

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, you got it," he said. "Listen…Luna?" Both young and older blonde turned his way. "You," he said, pointing at the younger of the two, "can you keep this whole thing a secret? Until we find a way home? It could do a lot of harm if you were to tell people we were here.""

"A secret? I'm good at keeping secrets!" she said.

"Good." He realized that they had left their own world in the summertime, but if Luna was at Hogwarts the school year had to be in session. "Can you tell me what day it is?"

"What day? December…something-or-other. Christmas is in three days. I stayed here with my friends. My friends Harry, and Ginny, and all the other Weasleys…you know, you look an awful lot like them. Except Harry doesn't wear glasses, and Ginny's got braces."

"Braces?" said Ginny. "Ugh. I told mum I'd skin her if she ever made me get those things."

"That's all right," said Harry with a smirk, "I like your smile the way it is."

"So," said Ginny, lowering her voice, "this world is like ours but…a little different?"

"I don't know how different, just yet," said Harry. He looked around. It was the same Hogwarts he remembered…the same stones, the same desks and chairs…and wasn't that the spot were Seamus had burnt a mark in the desk in the second year? Come to think of it, if Luna were thirteen or so then he was in his fourth year there, and Dumbledore…

"I need to speak to the Headmaster," he said suddenly. All three girls turned to look at him.

"I thought you wanted to keep hidden," said Luna.

"This is different," he said. "I can talk to him about anything…weird."

After a long moment Ginny nodded, understanding. Dumbledore was the only person who could make sense of all the craziness. "Luna…you…can you please take me to him? My friends are going to a place where they can keep out of the way…every school _requires _a place like that, right?"

Ginny nodded, understanding what he was getting at. He checked his pocket to make sure that the invisibility cloak was still there—he was prepared to throw it over himself if he saw anybody in the hall who could give his identity away.

Although they did pass a handful of people in the halls—more so than was usual for Christmas—nobody seemed to give him a second glance. They came up to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's quarters and Harry paused—would the Dumbledore of this world use a similar password system?

"Do you know the password?" he asked Luna warily.

"Of course. Its cheeseburgers," she said. The gargoyle slid aside and Harry walked through the opening.

"Wait out here," he warned before he was carried upward. At the top of the stairs he faced a closed door. He knocked, feeling a rush of relief that in moments he would be faced with the man who had always given him the guidance he'd needed.

The door swung open. Harry found himself staring into a pale face with a hooked nose and questioning black eyes. The man raised an eyebrow. "Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

"I…er…" Harry took a quick step back, not realizing that there was nothing but air behind him. He fell, for the second time in the space of thirty minutes and after the voyage between the worlds. It was probably a good thing that he was dazed. Snape rushed forward to take him by the arm, pulling him to his feet and guiding him to the chair in his office.

"Don't say anything," he warned. The door closed behind them. As Harry came to he saw that Snape was staring at the scar on his forehead, looking into his green eyes. "I had wondered," he said finally, "if I would ever see proof that our theory was correct. But now…this is truly amazing, Mr. Potter."

Harry sat up quickly, ignoring the stars swimming in his eyes. "Do you know something about this?" he asked. "Where is Professor Dumbledore?"

"Ah," Snape said, crossing the room so that he was standing beside the portraits of former Hogwarts headmasters. "He retired long ago, Harry. Shortly after your defeat of the Dark Lord."

Harry could see the twinkle of the last portrait's eyeglasses. "What a handsome man you turn out to be," it said cheerfully. "Of course with all the trouble you're always in I've watched you grow from the day you started here at Hogwarts."

Snape chuckled. "Yes, he has been in here often," he said. "Harry, I wonder if you know any more about what you're doing here than I do," he said. "I can't say that I'm surprised to see you…or a different version of you, as the case seems to be. You always have been a magnet for trouble. I'm sure you are aware that you are in a world different than your own?"

Harry nodded. Several thoughts were currently passing through his head, not the least of which was the fact that the Snape he was talking to was actually _nice, _and looked like he'd had a decent shower and spent some time in the sun recently. There were elements of him that were unmistakably Snape, and it was odd to find the different aspects in complete juxtaposition.

"We were doing research on the matter of alternate worlds, before Dumbledore retired," said Snape. "I no longer have access to this research. Dumbledore took it with him when he left. He disappeared some years ago and I have no idea how to reach him—he might possibly have gone into a parallel world and become trapped there for all I know. If you would like to stay a few days I can attempt to gather together everything I know for you. Would that be acceptable?"

"Yes…very," said Harry.

"Good. I trust that you will be discreet during your stay here. It is the Christmas holidays, and as I understand it there will be some visitors from yours and the Weasley family. Did you bring anybody with you on your…journey?"

"Yes. Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood. They're both older, like me."

"Very well. Please pass the message on to them. There is a Room of Requirement…"

"I know the room," said Harry.

"Then you know that you should find satisfactory lodgings for your stay. I look forward to speaking with you again, Mr. Black."

Harry was about to start from the room, but he paused when he heard the name that Snape gave him.

"Excuse me?"

Snape quickly discerned the puzzled expression on Harry's face. "Ah," he said. "I suppose you are still called Potter where you are from. The Harry I know was given his adoptive father's name."

As he walked, alone and unseen, back to the Room of Requirement, Harry puzzled over the changes he had spotted so far in this world. The drastic changes of the first world—the switching of boy to girl, and girl to boy, had been so strange and outrageous he'd been able to pass through it as if it were a dream. And then in the world of Harry and Gabrielle, as strange and tragic as things had been it had felt much the same, a vision of what his future could have been if life had taken a different course.

But he was back in a world where he was fourteen again, and it seemed that he had an entirely different childhood, Voldemort good and dead and himself raised by Sirius.

And hadn't Snape said that Harry's family would be coming to the castle for Christmas? Of course that had to mean Sirius, though who else was included in that was beyond what he could guess.

He was lost in these thoughts when he realized he'd been pacing in front of the Room of Requirement for a little over two minutes. He slipped inside the door that had appeared, and immediately felt Ginny run at him and hold him tight.

"I had no idea," she said breathlessly. "Luna's explained everything to me. How many of these worlds have you been to Harry? What are they like?"

Harry sat down on the large sofa that occupied one side of the room, pulling Ginny down with him. "This is the third," he said. "One was just…weird. You were a guy."

"WHAT?" she said, sitting up straight.

"Everybody was switched around. You were Jimmy, Hermione was Herman, Ron was Rhonda…Fred and George were Freda and Georgina."

"You have GOT to be kidding me!" she said, breaking out into hysterical laughter. "What were you, Harriette?"

"Actually, he was still Harry. It was kind of funny," said Luna, "you and Harry are still a cute couple, even when you're gay."

"You were GAY for me?" said Ginny, breaking out into even heartier laughs now, tears seeping out of her eyes.

"For Jimmy!" Harry sputtered. "And it wasn't me!"

"Okay, okay, what about the other world?" she said. "What, were we all centaurs or something?"

Harry looked down at the ground. "No," he said. "Actually…you were dead."

A moment passed. He felt her hand grip his. "I'm sorry," she said.

"What? Why?"

"Nothing, I just mean that must have been hard for you."

"Not as hard for me as for the other Harry. He disappeared for years and started writing this journal in the paper…anonymously. He finally got out of it. I think he's dating Gabrielle Delacour."

"What?" said Ginny. "Phlegm's little sister?"

"Not me, remember?" he said quickly, when he saw the look of disbelief coming over her face.

She shook her head. "Definitely weird. So how do we get home?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "We always do, eventually. But not right away. Time passes differently here. I spent a day or so in the first world, and several days in the second. I just spoke to Snape, he told me to wait a few days so he could get some research together for me."

"Wait," said Ginny, "you spoke to Snape?"

Harry recounted the meeting he'd had with Snape for Ginny and Luna. Ginny seemed equally shocked by the fact that Snape was nice in the world, and even helpful.

It took a while to explain everything. By the time it seemed like all the important questions had been asked the three of them were getting tired, and two beds appeared in the room. Luna said goodnight and pulled a curtain around the smaller of the two, leaving Harry and Ginny to blush as they changed into nightclothes and crawled under the covers together.

"We've never slept in the same bed before," said Ginny teasingly, wrapping her arms around him.

"Guess we haven't," said Harry, thinking to himself that with any luck they'd spend the rest of their lives this way.

With so much swirling around in his head he thought he'd never get to sleep, but before long he was unconscious even to dreams. When he finally did wake up the next morning it was to young voices conversing with Luna. Harry pulled aside the curtain, wishing he hadn't when he was met with four pairs of eyes staring directly at him.

When he saw the younger version of himself both hands when to the scar on their foreheads automatically. "Weird," said Harry.

"It could be polyjuice potion," whispered the younger Ginny.

"But he's older," said Ron.

"Polyjuice potion mixed with an aging elixir, maybe," she said.

The younger Luna shook her head. "I told you both, they're from a different world. Look, there's the older Ginny right there!"

Ginny had gotten out of bed and was staring at a version of her that looked as she had at thirteen. "Bloody hell," the two said at the same time.

Over the next two days, the three adults spent much of their time with their younger counterparts. During this time, Ginny pointed something out to Harry.

"See how they're looking at each other," she said as younger Harry sat playing wizard's chess with Ron, as the younger Ginny and Luna talked to each other by the fire. Harry watched them for a moment, seeing each steal sidelong glances at the other when they thought nobody was looking. "They like each other," she whispered with a smug smile.

"You really think so? I didn't notice _you _until you were fifteen." He caught the warning glance she sent him and grinned. "But that's because I was stupid," he added quickly.

"Hmm," she sighed. "Do you maybe they're giving each other goo-goo eyes because we're here, together? Like, maybe it sped up the process?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "There are a lot of things different about this world. Harry Black…sounds weird, doesn't it?"

Ginny nodded. From what they'd been able to learn over the course of a couple of days, Harry had been raised by Sirius Black—Peter Pettigrew was rotting in Azkaban where he belonged—and Voldemort had never made his return. And in this world, Sirius had introduced him to the Weasleys when he and Ginny were both small children. He and Ginny and Ron and Luna had all grown up together, with complete freedom of all the land around the Burrow and Luna's place.

They had spent all their Christmases at the Burrow until Ginny and Luna started school, after which they'd taken to having them at Hogwarts so Professor Snape could join in the merriment.

They watched their younger selves for a while. It was a little after dinner when, separated from Ginny, the younger Harry came up to him. "Mr…Harry, I wanted to ask you…do you think you could take me to Hogsmeade? I know that Snape would let me go if you took me."

"Hogsmeade? What for?"

Younger Harry glanced quickly at younger Ginny. "I wanted to buy a present," he said. "If you're busy, I understand…"

"No, that's all right," said Harry, catching the boy's meaning. "That would be fine. But you have to ask Snape."

So it was that on the morning of Christmas Eve he found himself making the long walk to Hogsmeade with his younger self at his side. A light snow was beginning to fall—nothing that would make the trip unbearable. It had been a long time since Harry had seen Hogwarts in the winter and he was suddenly reminded of how wonderful it had always been to have his peaceful holidays at the old castle, with one or more of his best friends around to keep him company.

He and younger Harry stopped in Honeyduke's first, and then Zonko's, and came around to a small bookshop, none of which the younger Harry pronounced to be 'right'.

"So…who are you looking for a gift for?" he asked after another shop turned up nothing.

The younger Harry blushed. "Well…it's for Ginny. I was hoping that maybe since you know her…I mean, since you and she are…well…"

"We're in love," said Harry, making his counterpart turn bright pink.

"Yeah," he said. "That. I was thinking maybe you could help me find something that would make her want to be my girlfriend. I really like her…"

"I know the feeling," said Harry.

"How did you do it?" asked his younger self. "Make her your girlfriend, I mean?"

Harry grinned, remembering the moment all those years before. "I just snogged her. Right in front of everyone. Surprised the hell out of everybody, even us."

"You what?" said his younger self, laughing nervously.

Harry peered down at his fourteen-year old double. He remembered how he'd been at that age—enamored with Cho Chang and never even kissed before. "How about we go to that little antique shop over there?" he said. "Maybe they'll have a nice necklace or bracelet or something."

His younger self let him lead him to the shop, which was run by an old witch with a leathery face. She directed them to a small display of jewelry, all of which was far too expensive for a boy.

His face fell as he realized this. But the thought of jewelry gave Harry an idea. His hand went down to his pocket and he clutched the little velvet box that had traveled with him so far. "Do you have your parent's Gringott's vault?" he asked.

The younger Harry nodded.

"Your mother's jewelry should be there, all of it—even her engagement ring. There's a silver locket that your dad gave your mum—I gave it to Ginny for Christmas two years ago. Can you get in touch with Sirius?"

"Yeah!" said Harry, face brightening up. "You think she'll really go for it?"

Harry grinned. "I know it."

When Christmas dawned the entire castle seemed to wake up again. Harry, Ginny and Luna were hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak when the others all arrived, their younger doubles sworn to secrecy under Snape's watch. The exchange of presents went on for a little over an hour—Harry felt Ginny's hand slide into his when Sirius walked into the room, as handsome as he'd been in his youth without a single trace of Azkaban hanging around him.

But he was watching for one moment in particular. It came when the adults were off to one side, talking about grown up matters, and the other young people were on a Quidditch bent. Young Harry pulled young Ginny aside.

"Sorry I didn't have time to wrap it," he muttered, reaching into his pocket. "But I just got it this morning."

He pulled out a glittering locket. Ginny gasped, reaching up to her throat to touch the same charm that dangled there. The younger Ginny smiled broadly.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"It was my mom's," he said. "I…do you want me to put it on you?" Ginny nodded, pulling her hair up, and Harry reached around to latch the clasp behind her neck. Their faces were inches away from each other. When Harry was done he didn't immediately pull away—and with a look of firm conviction coming over his face he closed the distance and kissed her, causing the entire room to go quiet and, led by Sirius, to break out into applause that turned both young people bright red.

"Come on," Harry whispered, sensing that Ginny was about to cry.

They went through the castle and out to the edge of the Great Lake, which was frozen over. Mounds of white snow covered the landscape.

"That was…I could feel it all over again," said Ginny. "The way it was when we first got together. When everything was so new and exciting…and the locket. You gave him that idea, didn't you?"

"I did," said Harry. His hand went down to the box in his pocket.

"Your mother's locket," she said softly.

Harry nodded. "It's only appropriate. I figured that it would be in his vault, the way it was in mine. There's another treasure in there, Ginny, that I suppose he'll give her one day, but not for some time yet." He pulled the ring out of his pocket, kneeling right down into the wet snow. "I'm giving it to you know Ginny, if you'll promise me one thing. Will you marry me?"

His world went black and cold. It took him a long moment to realize that he'd been thrown back into the snow, with Ginny laying on top of him. "Is that a yes?" he said, muffled by the fact that she was kissing him relentlessly.

"Yes! Oh yes, Harry!"

They made their return home the next day, hands intertwined and a glittering diamond on Ginny's finger. He had Snape's information secured in his pocket, but nothing—not even multiple worlds—could deter him from knowing that he would spend his life with the woman by his side.


	9. At The Inn Of the Green Dragon

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter; we merely observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 9: At the Inn of The Green Dragon  
**

"Are you all right Ginny?"

"Hmm…what?" Ginny glanced over at Hermione, who was giving her the intense sort of look that meant she realized there was something she was keeping from her. Had it just been that Hermione, who was by nature far more perceptive than was comfortable for the people around her, was picking up on the fact that she was quieter than usual she would have found some excuse to deter her. But the fact was that they had been friends for a long time, and Ginny knew that excuses weren't going to work.

"I just have a lot going on," she said after a long moment. "Good things," she added quickly, "for the most part. But tonight isn't about me. It's about you!"

She smiled, and Hermione couldn't help but smile back at her even though it was obvious that she was only shelving the topic to be brought up again later—her friend was persistent, to say the least.

They were in front of the fireplace in Luna Lovegood's living room, waiting for the third member of their group to come down from upstairs. Ginny watched the stairs warily—she was still a little on edge, considering what had happened the last time she had gone anywhere with Luna.

It was hard to believe that over a month had passed since then. A month, and she and Harry had yet to announce their engagement. They were waiting for the perfect time—and, in Ginny's opinion, trying their hardest not to make Ron and Hermione any more anxious about their own upcoming nuptials than they already were.

She imagined Harry somewhere, patting his friend on the back and (by her own mum's orders, she imagined) making sure he didn't try and flee to Argentina before the morning sun peeked over the hillside. It was Ron, after all, and although she knew he loved Hermione very much he _did _have a track record to consider.

By midday tomorrow, Ginny would have a new sister-in-law. And, she had told Hermione numerous times, the only appropriate way to celebrate the occasion was by going out to the nicest pub in London that the wizarding set had to offer and getting thoroughly trashed.

"Hello!" came a cheerful voice from upstairs. Ginny and Hermione looked up at Luna, who was wearing something like a shortened blue robe that was covered in something that made it very, very sparkly. "I'm ready! I don't think I've ever gotten trashed before, is it very fun?"

Hermione turned bright red. "What did you tell her we were doing, Ginny? I thought we were just having a couple of drinks. My _wedding _is tomorrow…"

"Oh, relax Hermione. I just made a joke," said Ginny. She took a handful of floo powder kept in an old boot and turned to the fireplace. "Are we ready to go?"

The other girls nodded and she tossed the powder into the fire, stepping in first and directing the network to take her to the Green Dragon. She stepped out first.

The room was very dim, but not enough that they couldn't see the area around them. Several couples were seated at tables scattered to one side of the room, while more couples and a handful of singles covered a dance floor located adjacent to a long bar illuminated by magical flames.

She walked straight to the bar and ordered three Crazy Old Witches, shoving them into her friend's hands (despite Hermione's protests). Sipping at the neon blue concoction she found her group a table near the bar, where they could watch a popular live band doing covers of famous wizarding hits.

"See, this is fun," said Ginny after the first half hour and halfway through their second round of drinks. Hermione grinned, leaning forward on the table. "Yeah, I guess," she admitted. "I want to try a Genie Martini," she said.

"You haven't finished the one you've got," said Ginny.

"One way to fix that," said Hermione, tipping her head back and downing the rest of her drink in one go. Ginny and Luna cheered as Hermione teetered her way to the bar to order another.

"Wow, she's a cheap date," said Ginny with a laugh.

"Is she?" said Luna. "I don't think she's cheap. In fact, if witches and wizards were still held as slaves I bet she'd fetch quite a lot."

"I didn't mean…wait, what? Slaves?"

Hermione came back, sitting down with a small thud. "What were you talking about?" she asked, but before Ginny could answer a trio of wizards had come over to them.

They were all of them young and attractive, probably in their late twenties. "Saw you girls arrive earlier. I have to say, you certainly caught my eye."

Ginny cocked her eyebrow. Young, hot, and _Australian. _"Don't get many Aussies in these parts," she said politely.

"My parents went to Australia once," said Hermione, rather more loudly than Hermione was usually inclined to speak. "Of course, I forced them to go. I'm glad I managed to get them back."

"Er, yeah. Great country. I'm fond of it," said the second wizard.

"Are you hitting on us?" said Luna matter of factly. Two of the wizards looked suddenly uncomfortable, while a third grinned widely.

"Nah, baby, we just wanted to talk. Spend the evening with a trio of lovely young witches like yourselves." He pulled a chair from an empty table nearby and sat down next to Luna, beckoning for his friends to follow suit.

Ginny rolled her eyes. Bar scum.

"So, what do you girls do when you're not making all the other witches jealous?" asked the first one, who seemingly had made Ginny his mark.

"I play Quidditch for the Harpies," she said, finishing off her drink just as the waitress brought her another.

"A Quidditch girl? I must admit, I find athletic girls very attractive.'

"Hmm…" said Ginny, biting her tongue. "So does my boyfriend."

"Ah." The wizard leaned back slightly. "Right."

"Are you single, love?" asked the wizard seated next to Luna.

"I am me, as you are he, and you are me and we are all together," she said, swaying lightly on her seat.

"Eh?"

"That's her way of saying she's single," giggled Hermione, who was almost done with her third drink and about to start on another.

"Oh God, what was I thinking?" muttered Ginny under her breath.

"And you love?" said the last wizard, who was leaning in dangerously close to Hermione. "Does any man hold your heart captive?"

"Ronald does _not _hold anything of mine captive," she said decisively, chewing thoughtfully on the straw of her now empty glass. "But we're getting married in the mo-orning," she finished, her voice taking on a singsong quality that would have seemed perfectly normal coming from Luna but made Ginny slightly uneasy coming from Hermione.

"A bachelorette?" said the first wizard, the grin coming back over his face. "Now why didn't you say so? This calls for a special celebration! Next round of drinks are on me."

Ginny opened her mouth to decline, but before she could get the words out the wizard sitting next to her was pulling her to her feet and out to the dance floor. "I told you already, I have a boyfriend," she pointed out as he pulled her close—far closer than they needed to be to dance along to the punk anthem the band was playing.

"Well, we're only dancing love. You can be friendly for a poor bloke from down under, can't you?"

Ginny sighed. "Well, you see, the thing is, I'm not just seeing someone. I'm engaged."

She extracted her hand from his and pulled out the chain she was wearing around her neck. The diamond ring glinted in the low light of the club.

"Oh now, you're not going to let something like a fiancé get in the way of true love are you?" he slurred, leaning in close. "I saw you sitting there and I knew you were the girl for me. Always loved a good redhead. Freckles…freckles everywhere…"

That was enough. Ginny sighed. "Well, you see, the thing is I'm not just engaged. I'm engaged to somebody kind of important."

"Well now, who would that be?" said the Aussie, with a smirk on his face that Ginny knew from experience meant he was revving himself up to kiss her.

"Harry Potter."

His hands dropped from her waist immediately. He colored, then spun on his heel and left her without so much as a friendly goodbye. Ginny sighed, ordered another drink, and sat back down at her table to wait for Hermione and Luna to come back to her.

From the look on Hermione's face she had sobered up slightly—she had a disgusted look on her face. "That bastard kissed me," she said. "I probably have some sort of disease."

"The guy I danced with was rather nice," said Luna. "He knows all about Snorcacks and Glibberrots."

"Oh, really?" said Ginny, rolling her eyes. "Perhaps you should send him an owl later."

"I think I'm ready to go home," announced Hermione finally. They had only been there an hour or so but with the wedding preparations to start as soon as Molly was awake, which was to say the moment there was any hint of sun in the sky, it was best that they get home and sober up as soon as possible.

They got in line for the Floo home, behind a number of stumbling witches and wizards who, due to their inebriation, were affected by the bar's ward against apparition under the influence. "Say goodbye to being single," said Ginny to Hermione.

Tilting her head to one side and smiling lopsidedly, Hermione said, "Same to you." She followed her friend's gaze down and saw that she had forgotten to hide the diamond ring back in her robes. She colored, but Hermione put her arms around her and squeezed tightly, almost sending both of them toppling over.

"I'm so happy for you, Gin! You know, I'm honestly surprised that the two of you aren't getting married before me and Ron. But I guess it's best this way—anyway, it makes Ron feel all manly and important that he was the first to ask."

Ginny smiled. "You're going to be my sister tomorrow, Hermione," she said. "I just…I've never been happier before in my life!"

Ginny and Hermione wiped the tears from their eyes, then turned around to find Luna standing stock still, staring off into space.

"Are you all right?" said Ginny, worried her friend had had too much to drink.

"It's time to go again," she said, staring off into space. "You two are coming, aren't you?"

"Of course, we're going home," said Hermione, taking her by the hand and pulling her to the fireplace. Their turn had just come up.

But Ginny realized—she had seen Luna that way before, had heard Harry now explain what had happened the other times they had gone to other worlds. "Wait, one moment," she said.

Luna reached out and took her hand, and with a firm yank she felt herself falling toward the fireplace, disappearing before she was enveloped in the familiar green flames.


	10. Over The Hill and Under The Hill

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter; we merely observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 10: Over The Hill and Under The Hill  
**

"Ooh…that was a bit of a rough landing." Hermione got carefully to her feet, shaking her head.

Ginny rubbed the sore spot on her head from falling over. She was certain they hadn't Flooed—that they'd done whatever it was they'd done the last time, when she, Luna and Harry had ended up in that other world. But they were now standing in the Lovegood kitchen, right where they had intended to go. Luna was dazedly looking around, clutching her hands behind her back. After several moments Ginny realized they weren't the only ones in the room.

A blonde boy, who looked very much like Luna, was standing there watching them.

"Oh…oh no," said Ginny as realization set in. She darted forward, swaying slightly. "We've got to go. Now!" she said, grabbing Luna by the shoulder.

"Why?" said Luna. "We only just got here. And I think I'd like to sleep."

"Sleep? No! Listen!" she hissed, leaning forward so that Hermione couldn't hear her. "She doesn't know about all this. She's getting married tomorrow…don't you realize how much this is going to freak her out? Especially if…oh, please don't tell me this is that weird reversed gender world…"

"Hello, friends," said Logan after a long moment, bowing deeply at the waist. "I thought you'd be visiting me again soon."

"Who're you?" slurred Hermione.

"He is me," said Luna.

"No more Beatles references," said Hermione, making a face.

"What about Beetles?"

"Egh…my head hurts," said Hermione, placing her palm against her forehead.

"Hermione has had a bit to drink. I believe she may be drunk. In fact, I believe I am drunk," said Luna to Logan.

Logan nodded. Although Ginny knew, somehow, that she ought to decline the offer and find a way to get the three of them home she found herself accepting Logan's proposition of a bed for the night and breakfast in the morning. She reasoned that it shouldn't be too much of a problem—after all, time passed differently in their worlds. With any luck they'd get back before the preparations for the wedding began and hopefully without any lingering hangover.

Luna and Hermione were already snoring in the large bed by the time Ginny felt her eyes sliding closed. The last thing she could remember thinking was that she ought to do something to make sure she was the first up in the morning, but unfortunately the thought was lost forever as she slid into a very deep sleep.

When she next opened her eyes, it was to the tune of a bloodcurdling scream. She jumped up, looking across the room to see Hermione standing by her bed with a thick blanket wrapped around her. "Wh-who are you?" she stammered. A short, redheaded boy was standing there, brows furrowed in concentration.

Ginny recognized him immediately. "Oh my God," she said, slapping her hand to her forehead—something she regretted, due to the roaring hangover she had.

Jimmy looked over at her, eyes widening in shock. "You're Ginny, aren't you? Logan told me some 'guests' arrived last night. I was expecting your version of Harry to be here."

"Yeah, well," said Ginny, stumbling for words, "guess he didn't make the trip this time."

"Would someone care to tell me who this is?" said Hermione.

"Jimmy Weasley," said the boy.

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, until suddenly it seemed like she thought she understood. "Oh…Ron's cousin, I suppose. But what are you doing here? I'm not even dressed!"

"I can assure you, I'm not really interested in looking," said Jimmy, blushing a little as he said so.

Hermione gasped. "Why, you rude little…"

"Don't get all bent," said Ginny, running a hand through her hair (which she noted in agitation was the exact shade of Jimmy's). "He's gay."

"Oh." Hermione colored. "I…well…that still doesn't explain what he's doing here."

"I was just going to ask what _you _were doing here," said Jimmy. "Have you figured any of this out yet?"

Luna shook her head. "Not quite," she said. "But I'm pretty sure the nargles _don't _have anything to do with it after all. Harry has some theories but I don't think I was really paying attention."

Ginny and Jimmy both sighed, then gave each other sidelong glances. "So…you know about this?" said Jimmy after a long pause.

Ginny nodded. "I got pulled into another world with him, just a little while ago. He explained everything he could to me, then."

"So there are other worlds?" said Jimmy, eyes widening in astonishment. "Bloody hell…Harry and I were talking about it. There are some old theories about parallel universes, alternate realities…we were wondering if maybe that's what's going on here."

Ginny nodded. Hermione, on the other hand, looked completely baffled. "What are you talking about?" she said finally, looking from Ginny to Jimmy and back again. "You didn't have any more to drink after we got back from the bar, did you? Oh God, was there something in the drink?..."

"You're fine," said Ginny. "Hermione…just listen. You know how you've been saying you think something is up with Harry? How you were worried he was hiding something and you asked me if I knew anything about it?"

Hermione nodded slowly.

"Well…he was hiding something. From me too, for a while, until he couldn't hide it anymore—thanks to Luna. This world we're in right now, it isn't ours. There are other versions of us…versions of us with completely different lives."

"This is a joke," said Hermione, laughing nervously.

"No. It isn't," said Ginny. "In this world…boys are girls and girls are boys…for the most part. This is Jimmy. He's…well, he's me. And Logan over there is Luna. Just…different."

Hermione sat down, missing the bed and landing with a thud on the floor. She stared into space for several long minutes, hardly aware of the fact that her blanket had slipped away and she was sitting there in only her bra and a miniscule slip, causing Jimmy to blush a deep and vibrant shade of red. When Ginny was beginning to wonder if she would have to do something to pull her out of it, she let out a deep sigh and slowly got to her feet.

"Well, I've seen a lot of strange things. I guess I can believe this…until it's proven to be a big hoax, or a side effect of whatever it is they put in those drinks."

"Fine, fine," said Logan, coming over to pat her on the shoulder. "I washed all of your things while you were sleeping. They're on a line outside, if you want to put them back on."

Ginny glanced down, realizing for the first time that she was only wearing the thin negligee she had had on underneath her robes. Luna was wearing a pair of muggle boxer shorts with yellow smiley faces on it and a black T-shirt.

They followed him down the stairs, stopping when they heard voices coming from the next room. "Who's in there?" said Ginny, stopping on the stairs.

"Just a few friends. You should meet them! After all, they're your friends too," said Logan. Before Ginny could stop him he had called for the people in the next room. A sick feeling came over her—embarrassment with a side of hangover—as a small group of people wandered in to stop and stare at the three girls, and Jimmy, standing on the stairs.

There was a whistle, and a call of "Way to go Jim!" Twin redheads, dressed in white T-shirts and pink skirts, stood at the front of the crowd, grinning (identical) ear to ear grins. Behind them was the other Harry, who was about as red as the boy standing on the stairs with them. But worse than anything else, in Ginny's opinion, was the tall and gangly girl who stood by Harry's side. She was wearing an oversized jersey over cutoff shorts, her face plagued by freckles. Flanking the girl was a bookish boy in a white button-down shirt, with frizzy brown hair cut close to his face.

"It's not what you think," said Jimmy, scrambling down to stand next to Harry. A smirk appeared on Harry's face then, as he caught what was going on.

"Sure it is," said Harry. "We all know what a babe magnet you are."

"Shut up," said Jimmy, elbowing him in the stomach.

"Logan! Where…" She had scarcely started the statement when she heard Hermione's calm voice.

"Accio clothing," she murmured. Through an open window their clothes flew at them. Ginny almost tripped as she dressed, debating whether smacking Luna when they got back to their own world was a justifiable action for something that Logan had done.

"These are our otherworldly visitors," said Logan. "I'd like you to meet Ginny…she's the redhead…and this is Hermione, and of course I am Luna."

"So _you're _Ginny," said one of the twins suddenly. "Ooh…cute."

"Do you have any sisters?" said the other twin with a wink.

"This is too bloody weird," said Ginny. "Is there any way we can sit down and talk for a bit? My head is spinning."

After a little arranging, the group found themselves seated around a large table. It took about as long to convince the bookish boy, who Ginny learned was named Herman, that they were from a different world as it had taken to convince Hermione.

When everything was out in the open, the doubles found themselves incredibly aware of their opposite sitting near them. Herman and Hermione were speaking together in a tone low enough that nobody else could hear them. Luna and Logan, as usual, were off in their own worlds.

Ginny learned fairly quickly, though, that she was not to speak of Harry and Jimmy's relationship. With a small amount of gesturing she got the point that Rhonda (the girl in the Jersey) was as yet unaware of the pairing, or even of the fact that her best friend and brother were even gay.

"So…I'm just curious," said Freda after the conversation had broken off for a little while. "Who are you with in your world? I mean, if it's like our world and you know the same people…for the most part."

"There was one world where you fell in love with Hermione, Georgina…well, you were George there, though…" said Luna.

Hermione glanced over at the busty twin, who winked at her. "Well, she is kind of cute," said Georgina with a giggle that seemed to cause Hermione real physical pain.

"And you, Ginny?" said Freda, seemingly innocent.

"Erm…well, I'm with Harry. He's male in our world too. So…you know…" she laughed nervously.

"Kind of weird, huh?" said Georgina. "Does that make you gay, in a way, Jimmy?" she said.

"Er…what about you Hermione?" said Jimmy quickly.

"Oh, well…oh my God, the wedding!" she gasped, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

"You'll be fine," said Ginny, noting that her friend was likely to suffer a heart attack if she wasn't calmed down quickly. "Time doesn't run the same way here. In fact, you might even get over your hangover with plenty of time to get ready," she said reassuringly.

"_Wedding?" _said the group at large.

"To who? To who?" said the twins.

"To…well, to Ron. Er…Rhonda…her other half."

All eyes turned to the girl sitting on the opposite table, who to this point seemed to have made it a point to keep to herself. Now, with all attention on her, she colored so dark that her freckles seemed to disappear into her skin. "I…I mean, my double…and _Herman's?"_

"It makes sense," said Jimmy casually. "You did used to snog when we were in school."

Now it was Herman's turn to blush. "Everybody snogged when it was Hogsmeade weekend," he said dismissively. "We dated for all of a month."

"And you didn't tell anybody," said Freda, batting her lashes. "Secret lovers are the ones we treasure most."

"Secret…" Herman began to sputter.

"This is rubbish," said Rhonda.

Harry and Jimmy were both laughing so hard that tears were coming out of their eyes. Ginny couldn't help but wonder just what was up with them, that they found the idea of being together so strange—although, taking note of her own brother's track record with Hermione before they finally got together, she figured it shouldn't be too surprising.

It was later on when she got to talk to Jimmy and Harry privately that she got a chance to hear the entire story. Rhonda, it seemed, had had a crush on Harry since their fourth year of school—right around the time when Harry became very confused by the feelings he was having for Li Chang, a fifth year Ravenclaw boy. For years Harry had kept his orientation a secret—with the exception of a stolen kiss from Li, who later dumped him for a Hufflepuff girl named Celia Diggory.

Then, by chance, Jimmy had stumbled on his secret—in no small part due to the fact that he had had a crush on Harry for years. The two had been an item ever since, telling very few people—Logan because his house was convenient for late-night snogging meet-ups, the twins, because they had caught them at it a few too many times for excuses to work, and Herman because he was smart enough to have figured it out on his own.

Unfortunately, Rhonda's crush on Harry had not lessened over the years—it had only grown stronger and stronger, and now they had no clue how to tell her the truth.

This conversation took place on the turret of Luna's house, overlooking the meadow that led to the Burrow. Taking their leave of Ginny, Harry and Jimmy opted to make their way back home. Ginny remained there, and several minutes later she heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Herman and Hermione coming her way.

"You feeling better?" said Ginny.

Hermione nodded. "I am," she said.

The serious faced Herman nodded too. "Are you okay?" Ginny asked him.

"I'm fine. A little peeved. Well…okay, a lot peeved."

"Herman likes Rhonda," said Hermione with a sigh. "Unfortunately she's just as much of a git in this world as my Ron is in ours."

Ginny laughed. "You love him," she said.

"Yeah. God help me, I do," she muttered.

Herman walked to the edge of the roof and leaned on the edge of the wall, staring off into the distance. Ginny patted him on the back. "You know…I know this is going to sound weird, but I think you and Rhonda are really meant to be."

"Wish she'd realize that," he said bitterly.

"She will," said Hermione confidently. "Trust me…it took a war and imminent death for Ron to admit he loved me."

Herman turned around. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "I know Ron better than anybody. And in a way, I know Rhonda too. In a way it was his love for Harry that kept him from admitting how he felt about me, once upon a time. He thought that Harry and I…that we were supposed to be together. He thought he should step back and let us be together, that it was best. I think Rhonda loves Harry because of how long they've been friends, and maybe…even if she knows it won't happen…she thinks she'd be betraying him by loving somebody else."

Herman blinked. "When the hell did I get so introspective?"

"You always were," said Hermione. "Girls say it better than boys can."

There was another footstep on the stair. They turned—Luna stood there. She reached out her hands. Ginny, knowing what was coming, took her hand automatically, and seeing Ginny do so Hermione followed suit.

"We'll see you again, I'm sure of it," said Ginny to Herman.

"Goodbye!" said Luna cheerfully. And then they had left that world, Ginny realizing with some surprise just how intertwined her world had always been with one that, until recently, she had never known existed.

**Before we end this report, we the Potter Monitor have a challenge for our readers. All of titles of the first eight chapters, save the second, had a common source. This chapter's title and the one before it also share a common source, but it is different from the others. We challenge you to name these sources. We await you theories.**


	11. A LongExpected Party

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter; we merely observe its variants and report on our findings.

**Chapter 11: A Long-Expected Party**

They left the world of their other selves after a little less than a day there; they arrived back in their own world just twenty minutes after they had left. As odd as she had found the experience, Hermione couldn't help but be grateful for one thing—the hangover that she had feared would still be creeping up on her as she stood in front of her family to say her I Dos had vanished, though she doubted she'd get any sleep during the night that stretched before her.

When they got back to Luna's house Ginny and Luna both burrowed down beneath their blankets and were deeply asleep within minutes. Hermione went down to the kitchen and warmed a mug of milk, adding a dash of cocoa powder and sugar, and went outside to the stare at the stars.

She wasn't surprised when, after five or so minutes, she saw Harry striding up the hillside. He glanced up, waving when he saw her. She waved back, smiling—genuinely happy to see her.

"Aren't you supposed to be holding Ron's hand?"

"I've already got him shackled down. Don't worry, Hermione, he won't run away."

She laughed then, and couldn't help but wonder at the fact that after all the years and all the things that they had been through that Harry was the one soothing her frayed nerves on a hard night.

"You'll never believe the night we had," said Harry, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her on the porch.

Hermione choked on a mouthful of cocoa. "Hmm," she said, sitting it aside. "I could say the same. Luna, Ginny and I visited some friends of yours. I believe you'll remember Jimmy?"

Now it was Harry's turn to sputter. His mouth hung open and he stared at Hermione. "You…you went? You went too?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't know how to tell you how glad I am that you had that reaction," she said. "Up until a few seconds ago I was certain that I'd gone crazy."

She sat down on the chair beside him. "So how did you know to come over here?"

"Just a hunch," said Harry, shrugging. "You couldn't sleep the night before a final when we were in school. I thought there was a strong possibility of the same the night before your wedding."

With a laugh, Hermione finished off the last of her drink and set her mug down, pulling her robe tightly over herself. They sat in silence for a while. "I saw Ginny's ring," she said finally. "I'm glad you asked her. The two of you will be happy together."

"So will you and Ron," said Harry. When she didn't respond he looked over at her, noting the solemn look on her face. "What, you don't agree?"

"No, I do," she said, shaking her head. "I know we'll be happy together. But…well, especially after seeing Herman and Rhonda in that other world, I wonder if we were really _meant _to be together."

Harry stretched, looking up into the sky. "Well, I don't think anybody is meant to be with anybody in particular," he said. "You know, people change as they go through life. If I hadn't been the chosen one…well, I might never have gotten to be so close to the Weasleys, or met Ginny. I could be engaged to Lavender Brown right now, or expecting my first kid with Cho Chang."

"I could be settling down with some nice muggle boy, completely unaware that Hogwarts or magic or Harry Potter or Ron Weasley even existed," said Hermione. She ran her fingers through her hair—it was as bushy as it had ever been. Harry thought back, remembering the know-it-all girl he'd met in his first year, with oversized front teeth and the same brown frizz.

"I better get to bed," she said, rising. Harry got up too, putting an arm around her shoulder and hugging tightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he said. "Tell your Maid of Honor I said hello."

Hermione smiled and retreated back into the house, watching from the window as Harry disappeared once again into the darkness. When he was out of sight she went up to her room and curled up under the covers, where she fell asleep immediately and stayed there soundly until morning.

***

"I can't do this." Ron was pulling at the collar of his sleek black dress robes, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else.

"You've been through worse," said Harry jovially, staring in the mirror as he fumbled with the knot in his bowtie. He was standing in the small room that he'd once spent his summers in, except it was now overrun by wizards who were scrambling around trying their best to make themselves look presentable.

"Facing the Death Eaters was nothing compared to this," he replied meekly, slicking his hair down nervously.

"You're marrying Hermione. The love of your life. The woman of your dreams."

"Yeah. Exciting." Ron looked as if he'd swallowed something that didn't quite agree with him. Harry reached over and mussed up his friend's newly fixed hair, then patted him on the back.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be going through this all in a little while. I asked Ginny to marry me."

"Great. Cool, Harry," said Ron distractedly, smoothing down his sleeves. "Hey, do these cufflinks look right? I hate the stupid things but Hermione gave them to me and I'll get hell…"

Harry sighed, and going over to his friend adjusted the accessories in question. The big reveal, he supposed, would have to wait. He continued comforting his friend for the next twenty minutes, his reprieve coming when Mr. Weasley stepped through the door and went over to his son. Taking his leave (brief as he realized it would be) Harry crossed the house and knocked at the door that had been erected to conceal the living room and kitchen.

"Who is it?" called Mrs. Weasley.

"It's Harry."

"No men allowed!" she called out, as several girls giggled.

"I want my woman," he growled. From behind the door he heard a shriek, and after a few minutes of hushed laughter the door opened just enough for Ginny to come flying out at him, landing in his arms.

She was flushed from laughing. Harry took a step back and looked at her. "Gee, you're cute. Want to snog?"

"I can't," said Ginny with a pout. "Mum plastered all this makeup all over my face and if I ruin it she'll curse me until I'm thirty."

"Too bad. You do look great, though." She was wearing the rose-colored robes that Hermione had picked out for her bridesmaids, her hair braided back into an intricate knot at the back of her head. The ring that she had, for weeks, been wearing on a thin silver chain had migrated to her left hand. Harry picked it up and smiled. "Guess the secret's out, huh?"

"Mum hasn't noticed it yet. I expect you'll know when she does."

He grinned, and before she could protest had leaned down to give her a quick kiss. "If I've messed anything up tell your mum it was all my fault. I have to get back to Ron—it's my job as best man to resuscitate him if he passes out."

"Please, no mouth to mouth with my brother, Harry," she called out after him. Harry burst into laughter and made his way back to Ron.

It was a little after one o'clock in the afternoon when the guests, including Hermione's muggle relations (most of whom would have their memories erased after the ceremony) gathered outside the burrow. Harry reminded a wedding a long time before, and how despite everything that had followed it how he'd never been able to feel negatively about that day.

Ron swayed, but did not fall down, as he took his place at the front of the crowd. There was light music lilting out of nowhere, drifting lazily towards them as the women began their march down the aisle. First was Fleur, who was as dazzling then as she had always been. Luna followed her, floating down the aisle. It occurred to Harry then, stunningly and startlingly, that she was a beautiful woman. She smiled at him and he returned it as she reached the end of the aisle and took her place.

Then Ginny appeared, and every other thought Harry might have had rushed out of his head. He flashed forward, imagining that he was the one waiting to be married and she was the one in white. He didn't look away from her until the music rose to a crescendo and the entire crowd stood, turning to face the bride.

Hermione smiled shyly. Her gown was simple and white, covered in layers of some sort of flowing material. Her hair was tightly curled, framing her face, and a filmy veil covered her to her shoulders. Harry glanced over at Ron, expecting to see his friend on the verge of apparating to somewhere more appealing. But his friend was smiling—as if a sudden peace had descended on him. Hermione reached the end of the aisle and, kissing her father on the cheek as he raised her veil, took the hand of her future husband.

The final I Dos said, the first kiss as husband and wife given, a loud cheer rose up that could have shook the mountains that surrounded them. The minutes that followed were a blur—pictures were taken, congratulations flew around like wild, and before he knew what had happened Harry was standing before everybody with his glass raised, being enticed into giving a toast.

"Well…I've known Ron and Hermione since our first year at Hogwarts. I don't think I have to explain how much the three of us have been through together, or in particular how much the both of them have meant to me. We've faced obstacles that should have killed us, and perhaps would have if we hadn't had one another. So to know that the two of them have found each other means that I haven't been entirely selfish in all that I've been through. I used to worry that I was asking too much of them by staying by my side. But knowing that somehow, through all the darkness, they were able to realize they could love each other makes me realize that all dark things come with good, too. Here's to Ron and Hermione Weasley—my best friends!"

Everybody cheered, with the exception of the muggle perhaps, to whom most of the speech was lost on.

Later on, after the speeches were over and the bride and groom had their first dance (which George promised was the most amazing spectacle of two-footedness, on Ron's part, he'd ever seen) Harry was able to pull Ginny to the side of the dance floor.

"You know, I dance better when I'm with you," said Harry.

"No you don't," she said with a coy smile. "It's just that you know I don't care if you stink."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "So, how long until we have ours?" he asked.

"How long do you want to wait?" she replied, twining her arms around his neck.

"As soon as possible," he said sternly. "Please tell me you're not going to go crazy with flowers and junk, and make me wear something that makes it so I can't breath, and…"

Ginny shook her head. "Wasn't planning on it. I was thinking Christmas, a White Wedding."

"Sounds great…"

They finished the dance, and then it was time to see Ron and Hermione off. Unable to convince Hermione that the traditional exit on broomstick was the way to go, the fireplace inside was surrounded by white ribbon and flowers. Everybody gathered round as the bride and groom were ushered away.

"See you soon!" Hermione cried out, waving to and hugging everybody in sight.

Ron spotted Harry and reached out to shake his hand.

"Congratulations, mate," said Harry.

Ron and Hermione moved closer to the fire and toward the flames. Hermione stepped into the light and Ron had one foot in when a strange look came over his face and he swung around.

"Harry, did you say you were _engaged to Ginny?" _

"Ron!" Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm and, pulling him into the fire, they were gone.


	12. Riddles in the Dark

**All Roads Traveled**

**Chapter 12: Riddles in the Dark  
**

"You're _what?" _

The last of the guests had just disappeared through the fire when Mrs. Weasley turned on both Harry and Ginny. He'd been expecting it for some time but still found himself stammering for words when suddenly faced with her wrath.

"I…uh…uh…"

"We're engaged, mom." Ginny placed her left hand on top of Harry's, her diamond plainly visible for her mother to see.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Mrs. Weasley cried out. She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around the both of them. Harry was used to being on the receiving end of her crushing hugs and was usually prepared for them—but this time he almost thought he was going to black out before she released him and he got a chance to surface for air.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner," said Harry with a smile. "We just thought it was best to wait until Ron and Hermione were off on their honeymoon."

"Oh…of course, of course!" said Mrs. Weasley. She had started to cry again, despite Harry being certain she'd have been cried out after all the sobbing she'd done during the wedding. She loudly blew her nose and sniffled again, staring dreamily at the two of them. "Oh Arthur, did you hear this? We're going to have a son-in-law!"

"So I heard. Welcome to the family…officially," said Mr. Weasley, reaching forward to shake his hand.

At that moment there was a sudden buzzing of activity as the remaining Weasley brood trooped into the kitchen. Bill was the first to come over and offer his congratulations, slapping Harry firmly on the shoulder. "I can hardly believe this day has finally come. Mind if we go off and have a little chat?" he said coolly, and before anybody could voice any objections had dragged him right out the front door and right into the Weasley's garden.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Finally Bill began to whistle, looking up into the night sky. "So…Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The Chosen One, and savior of the wizarding world…marrying my little sister. Kind of makes you think, doesn't it?" he said.

"I guess. You know how much I love Ginny, Bill…" said Harry.

"Please, call me William," he said.

"What?"

Bill crossed his arms over his chest, swinging around so that he was looking directly at Harry. "I'd like to know what your intentions are with my sister," he said. Harry stared back at him for a long moment before his mind was able to process his ability to say something coherent.

"I…intend to marry her," he said awkwardly.

"I don't mean that. I mean, what do you plan to do with yourself? To provide for the both of you?" he said.

"I…well…" This was something that Harry really hadn't given a lot of thought to since the end of the war, although he had toyed around with several possibilities. "I'm working at the joke shop…on and off," he said.

"George is doing fine on his own," said Bill. "I just want to know that you have some kind of plan. Fleur and I have been concerned with you lately…."

"Okay, Bill? You work at Gringott's. You know I have the money to take care of the both of us."

"It's not the money I'm worried about," said Bill with a long sigh. He brushed back his hair, revealing the long scar that marred one side of his face…token of a long-healed injury. Seeing it brought back a flood of memories. He thought of Bill's engagement to Fleur, which had almost been ended by the werewolf that had forever destroyed his once handsome appearance. Mrs. Weasley had been certain that the marriage was off, but Fleur had incredulously stated that she only wanted to marry him more than ever.

He hadn't understood all of that back then. His relationship with Ginny had just started and at that time he never thought it could go any further than school. And until that point he'd never imagined that having a relationship could mean more than just trying to both be alive, at generally the same time.

As much as it pained him to admit that Bill was right, he suddenly realized that he was going to need to find a job…and more than that, a profession.

"Right, I'll think about that," said Harry. Bill gave him a long look, and after a moment decided that he'd gotten through to his soon-to-be younger brother. They shook hands and parted ways, Harry back to the house and Bill to stare at the full moon some more.

He came around the side of the house and ran straight into Charlie. He rarely saw the second oldest Weasley brother, as he had spent much of his life studying dragons in far-off countries. Nonetheless he felt as much a kinship to Charlie as he did the other Weasley brothers and when Charlie asked to join him in a late night walk Harry realized he was in for another talking-to.

"So, um…" said Charlie, scratching his short (and somewhat singed) hair. "I didn't realize that you and Ginny were serious. Or…you know…that you were dating."

"We have been for a while," said Harry.

"Oh." Charlie started scratching at a large burn on his forearm. "How long is a while?"

"About three years."

Charlie whistled, nodding absently. "Yep…that's a long time. Guess that's why you're marrying her?" he said.

"Well…that and because I love her. Like…more than anything."

"Makes sense." Charlie chuckled then. "Longest I've ever had a girlfriend was six months. American witch, came out to study for a summer." He went thoughtfully silent, and after almost a minute Harry thought it best to end the awkward silence with an equally awkward question.

"So…what happened?"

"Oh…nothing, nothing. Got nipped by one of the little beauties and she packed her bags. Anyway, I don't think I could be with somebody who didn't appreciate the majestic splendor of dragons the way I do." He sighed then, getting a dreamy look in his eyes that frightened Harry slightly.

"Oh…well, then. Maybe you'll find her," he said.

"Maybe. Well…just remember, Harry, when she's angry the best way to keep her from shooting flames at you is to dangle something shiny in front of her and generally she's distracted enough to forget what it is you did to make her mad. If she cleans up her scales for you make sure you pay her extra attention. And always stay downwind if you see smoke flaring out of her nostrils." He extended his hand to Harry. "Good luck."

Harry made his excuses and escaped back to the house, where he was hoping to find Ginny so the pair could have a quick word before they went back to bed. Instead he found Percy in the sitting room, and before he could duck his head back out he was being motioned over. Reluctantly, he made his way over.

"So," said Percy, twining his fingers together, "You're marrying my little sister. Congratulations are in order."

"Yeah…thanks Percy. Now that you mention it I was just going to try and find her…"

"Wait, wait, I just wanted to have a little chat. Now that you're my brother I'd like to help you…get a start, so to speak. You know I have a lot of contacts in the Ministry…"

Harry blinked at Percy. Was he serious? "Thank you, but Kingsley could probably find something for me if I needed a job. I might just ask him now that I think about it…" he said, rising to leave the room. Percy started to protest but seemed to think better of it. Probably just irritated that he'd been bested in a battle of name-dropping, but Harry couldn't exactly fault him for it.

After all, not everybody is on a first-name basis with the Minister of Magic.

He left the room, starting up the stairs. "Ginny?" he called out. There was no answer, and after opening her room, and then his own, and not finding her anywhere, he knocked on George's old bedroom door. "Hey, Ginny?"

The door opened almost immediately and George grinned down at him. "Sorry, I know we bear a startling resemblance but I'm not the love of your life. But why don't you come in and have a drink with me?" he said. Harry looked past him and saw a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky sitting on top of a battered old table—one that had probably seen it's fair share of explosions at the hands of the WWW.

He started to make his excuses but, as he'd already had an audience with every other Weasley brother, resigned himself to the lecture…or whatever it was that George had planned…and entered the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

"Ickle Harry-kins all grown up," said George, pouring him a glass. "It's enough to make you cry. I remember the first time I saw you. There I was, plotting with Fred over the best way to set off a series of bombs in the third-floor toilets…"

"Hey! That was my idea!" shouted a portrait that was hanging on the wall nearby. Harry glanced over and saw that it was a near-perfect rendering of Fred. He knew that Mrs. Weasley had received it soon after the end of the war—he had never seen it, and assumed it was kept locked away because of all the painful memories it brought back. However, he'd met the portrait version of Fred before—a similar painting, albeit a bit more colorful, hung in the joke shop.

"Shut up! It was mine!" retorted George. "Anyway, there we were and here comes this scrawny little brat who's supposed to be famous for something…for the life of me I can't remember what," he said, punching Harry lightly in the shoulder.

"I think it's the saving the world thing," said Harry with a smile."

"Right. That…little Harry Potterkins, all grown up and saving the world and getting hitched…to my sister. You know, mum always said Ginny had the same eyes and me and Fred. Think about that the next time you're being romantic."

"No thank you," said Harry. "I'd rather not. As a matter of fact…"

"You aren't leaving yet. Not until you finish that drink, boy," he said.

"Yeah! No dandy gets to marry our sister!" said the portrait from across the room.

"All right." Harry downed the shot in one go, suddenly feeling the world swim around him for a minute. Shakily he got to his feet, and ignoring one final crack from George about hardly believing he'd been fresh out of diapers the first time they met he tottered down the stairs and back into the kitchen.

If he couldn't find Ginny, he decided, he was going to wait until she found him. He sat himself down in front of the fire, pulling off his glasses and rubbing at his temples. After several minutes he heard a faint pop. "Ginny? That you?" he called out.

"It's me."

Harry spun around to see Ron standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest. "Why didn't you tell me about you and Ginny?"

"Me and Ginny what?"

"This whole marriage thing!" Ron waved his arms dramatically.

"This whole marriage thing? You mean, this thing that you yourself just did? A few hours ago?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Ron. He sat down at the table with Harry.

"Just why are you here exactly? Isn't this supposed to be your wedding night?"

At that statement Ron turned a bright shade of red and coughed twice. Finally, after a little spluttering, he said, "I was just getting back to that. I wanted to talk to you first, though."

"Ron, I've been dating Ginny for three years now. What is it with you and your brothers? Why the hell are you all giving me such a hard time about this?" he said, slamming his hand down on the table.

Ron stared at him for a moment, and then, laughing, thumped Harry on the back. "I forget…you've never had brothers. This, my friend, is what brother's do." He stood up, and shaking Harry's hand made his way back to the fire. "I better get back to the wife…she's already got our schedules made for the next week. We're doing a wine tasting…can you believe it? I…"

"Ron? Ron!" There was a loud bang as Hermione came stumbling out of the fire. She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward her. "I told you we were going to leave Harry alone!" She glanced up then, and smiled. "Congratulations again, by the way."

Ron and Hermione both disappeared back through the fire. Harry sat back down and after a few minutes heard footsteps coming through from the den. "No more lectures," he said in annoyance.

"No problem, I'm fresh out." Ginny crossed the room and sat down next to him. "I was in the attic with mom. She was showing me her wedding dress. I think I may wear it."

"You'll be beautiful," he said.

"I expect I won't look half bad," she said with a small shrug, putting her hand back on top of his. The ring was glimmering in the low light. "Your mom's ring, my mom's dress. I think it'll be a sweet gesture on both of our parts. Don't you think?"

"I do."

Ginny smiled. "Remember those words, Harry," she said. For the first time, Harry felt his skin start to prickle in anticipation.

"Come on, we'd better get to bed," he said. The two of them started to rise just as the wind blew open the window. A tawny owl flew inside, carrying a brown package that it dropped without ceremony on the table. Harry glanced down at it, noting that the loopy scrawl on the paper was without a doubt Luna's.

"To Harry and Ginny, on their engagement," read Ginny. "Hmm, that was awfully quick." She pulled open the paper, lifting up a small golden statue of a bird.

"What is it?"

"A snidget. It's what the snitch is based on," said Ginny. "I wonder why she'd give us this?" She held it out to Harry and he grabbed hold of it. They moment they both touched it they were hurtling through the air, in the sensation he'd often felt before—whenever he'd used a portkey. After several minutes of feeling pulled inside-out he landed on the ground, feeling Ginny fall a few feet away from him. Slowly he got to his feet, and looked at the world around them.

"Oh boy," he murmured. This was going to be an adventure.


	13. Not All Who Wander Are Lost

**All Roads Traveled**

**Chapter 13: Not All Who Wander Are Lost**

"Harry?" Two voices rang out in unison—two voices that were very similar, though altered by time and space. Harry stared for a moment at the old man and woman who were standing across from him in the small, well-kept yard. The man by muggle years looked to be in his fifties, which Harry took to mean he was somewhere around eighty or ninety years old. His hair was a dark, steel gray, and stuck up in untidy bunches all around his head. The man adjusted his thick, wire rimmed glasses as he stared back at Harry and Ginny, fingers brushing against a lightning-bolt shaped mark across his forehead.

The woman standing beside him was slight of build, with long reddish hair cut to just below her shoulders. Her eyes widened in shock. She took a step forward before the man cautiously reached out to hold her back. "Wait," he muttered. "We don't know what these ones are like. By all rights they shouldn't even be here."

Harry stood his ground as the man cautiously approached him. Ginny clutched his arm tighter as he stood up straight to face the man.

"Uhm…ahem," said Harry. "I'm a little…lost," he said.

"I'll say." The man crossed his arms in front of his chest, taking in Harry from head to toe. Nobody said anything for a long moment until, finally, the older man seemed to come to a decision. "Right. You'd be Harry then."

With a nod, Harry extended his hand to the older version of himself. "And you'd be Harry too, I presume."

"The one and only." He took Harry's hand. "Well, perhaps not the only one. Have you met many other Travelers?"

"Have I…travelers?" said Harry.

"Ah. I guess not. Well, come on in then. Genevra? Put some tea on will you?"

Harry and Ginny followed their alter egos across the lawn and through the front door of the cottage. "Wait here for a moment, if you don't mind," said the older Harry when the older Ginny walked straight into the kitchen.

After a few moments had passed, and they were certain of being alone for a little while longer, Ginny spun around on Harry. "What is going on?" she said, eyes widening in surprise.

"I'm not really sure," said Harry. "I knew that the timelines didn't really sync…but I didn't quite expect this," he added.

Ginny took a long, deep breath, then pointed shakily in the direction that the others had gone. "That was us, Harry. Us, sixty years on. How am I supposed to feel about this?" she said.

"I don't think there's a way you're supposed to feel. There isn't really a guide for this sort of thing," he said. The two of them stood silently for a long moment, lost in thought. "On the plus side," he said finally, "we know we've got a shot of being together even after that much time together."

"And there was ever any doubt?" she said, raising her eyebrows. Harry recognized immediately, from years of dealing with Ginny's mother, that he was on the verge of saying something that he would really regret if he weren't careful.

"Not at all," he said, picking his words carefully. "I just meant that…you know…erm…"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Harry," she said.

"It's just like when he tells you that you're beautiful," called a voice from the hall. The older Harry returned. "It's not as if he has to tell you, but it's certainly nice to hear."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Harry for a moment, but the subject was dropped as they were invited into the kitchen, where a small table had been set with a silver service. A tray of dainty cakes had also been laid out…with both his and Ginny's favorites, it wasn't entirely surprising to note. Harry caught the amused gleam in the other's eyes as he pulled out Ginny's chair for her, and did his best to offer his thanks.

"Well, well," so where shall we begin?" he said. "The pair of you does not know what Travelers are, do you?"

"Not…entirely," said Harry. "At least…I guess you mean other people who can go between the different worlds. The different version of our lives…"

"Exactly," said the other. "But you've never met any other Travelers?"

Harry shook his head. "There's Luna…she's actually the one who does all the traveling. She just kind of…pulls me along."

"Luna's involvement seems to be pretty universal. She's very connected to other worlds…to these other possibilities. I've always enjoyed her company. She is…exceptional."

The older Ginny smiled into her teacup. "She most certainly is," she said before taking a long sip of her tea. "How many Luna's have we met, dear?"

"Nearly a hundred, love," said the older Harry.

A hundred Lunas? The idea of it almost made Harry fall out of his seat. He took a bite of a tea cake to give himself a moment to think.

"There are really that many worlds?" he asked finally.

"Oh, many more. The worlds are infinite. I have seen a great many of them myself…I believe I was near to twenty-one when I began to wander."

"Twenty?" Harry let the weight of that fact sink over him. "I've seen a few other worlds," he said finally. "What's the point of it all?"

His older self thoughtfully stirred his cup of tea, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, I don't think there is any real point to it. You can only change the course of one life Harry…your own. I've made it my mission to counsel other versions of myself…all who accept it. Certainly you've thought before that…that nobody understands you. Nobody can understand just what you're going through." The other Harry tapped the scar on his forehead gently. "Well, there's your proof that that's no longer true. I've found my calling in helping the other Harry's to see that…that, well, they aren't alone. And there is hope at the end of all this madness."

His hand reached across the table and twined around his wife's. Harry found Ginny's under the table and gave it a quick squeeze.

"So…you mean you're like a muggle theraputist, or whatever they're called?" asked Ginny.

"A therapist? Yes, you could call it that. In fact, I took many classes in psychology at muggle universities when Kingsley gave me leave to reform the office of Auror. I try and arrive no longer than three years after the battle. In fact…I was shortly set to visit you when you arrived on my front lawn. I wonder who might have sent you?" he said. His eyes were twinkling now as he gestured toward the window.

Through it was visible the high tower of the Lovegood home. Harry, who had hardly recognized the landscape, now realized that the Potter home had been built on the very land where he and Luna had first leapt to another world.

"Luna?" Ginny said before Harry could respond.

The older Harry nodded. "She doesn't come with me often, these days, and I have long since learned to travel without her help. But Luna is the one who scouts out the Harrys that are in need of my help. It wouldn't surprise me at all if she arranged this for the both of us."

"She said this was our engagement present," said Ginny suddenly. Her face then suddenly blushed.

"Engaged? I remember that," said the older woman, cheeks flushing. "The fussing, the fighting…but all in all, one of the best times of my life."

Ginny turned hot pink, moving even closer to Harry. Catching the gesture, the older Harry laughed. "Come on, we need to talk," he said, abruptly setting his cup down and moving off toward the hall. With a quick kiss for Ginny, Harry followed, moving down a long staircase until he entered a basement study.

As the lights erupted around them, and his eyes adjusted to the shade, Harry saw the other retrieving a large leather-bound journal from a shelf.

"This is where I keep record of the others," he said. Harry leaned over and, in his own untidy scrawl, saw line after line of notes and numbers. The older Harry turned to the first page and stepped back, allowing Harry a moment to browse the text.

The first ten pages were devoted to a faithful retelling of the old man's life…his own life, in fact, with not a single fact that deviated from the story of his own life. It was carefully numbered as world number 1.

Harry browsed through some of the other years. He began to notice in the notes that under each world one of the entries was a small notation on the age difference between the times. He stopped at one.

"In this world the Harry was over a hundred years older than you," he said. "How is that possible?"

"I'm sure you've noticed that one must have a…a channel, to proceed. Luna, for the two of us at least, is a channel. I met a rather fascinating young woman in that world who turned out to be her great-granddaughter."

"So…you mean that I may eventually end up in a world where I'm dead?" asked Harry.

"It has happened…and more than once."

Harry felt silent as he continued browsing. He stopped as he turned to World 2. He read only a few lines of brief description before he felt his heart pounding in his chest. "I know this world! I've already been there."

The older Harry leaned over his shoulder, chuckling softly to himself. "Ah, yes. A strange world. I last visited fifty years ago…a pity I never got to see what a female Snape looks like."

Harry read through his description of the people of the world. "Dumbledore? You met him….her?"

"Indeed. She's as colorful as any other Dumbledore I've ever known…I don't suppose you've yet run across another?"

"No…in fact, I haven't seen him since…"

"His death," finished the other. "Then…whether or not I should tell you I'm not sure…but I would want to know…" He met Harry's gaze. "Dumbledore died for me on the night we attempted to retrieve the fake horcrux. I am assuming…" he paused for a moment until Harry nodded for him to continue. "Right then. Dumbledore is dead for you as well. You should know that just as Luna is a channel between the worlds, so too is Dumbledore. I have seen many versions of him, and rarely do they change."

"Then…I might see him again," said Harry. He stared down at the pages of the book for a long moment without really seeing anything. "But my Dumbledore would be the same as yours…except…"

"Except about sixty years younger."

Harry kept his finger to the book. "You said you knew when you were going to have to come and speak to me. How?"

His older self put his hand on his shoulder, patting it for a moment. "I think you know the answer to that."

"So you saw them?" he asked. "Show me."

The man took the book from Harry, pushing very near to the middle of the book. He set it back down, pointing to a page marked World 173.

_This world is very much like my own. It is approximately sixty years before my own time, and at this point I have come in contact with Lily Evans (in this world my mother) and James Potter (my father). Voldemort is still villain…included here is the list of known Death Eaters in this world._

Apart from the list there was very little other information, apart from a notation that he should return forty years later.

"All of the other world's I've visited have been closer to my own time," said Harry. "Are there many worlds where the time is this…off?"

"You're wondering if you might get a chance to see them," said his elder self. "I felt much the same way when I realized the…possibilities. I can't tell you whether or not you'll ever get that chance. I think it likely, though." He took the book back from Harry and returned it to its shelf.

"There are very few people that know about things like this, so all theories that I have come from my own conjectures…and those of Dumbledore and Luna. As far as I can tell we are the only three that can travel, and of the three only Dumbledore has ever been able to do so freely. I'm telling you this, Harry, because of who you are…and where you are."

"Where?" said Harry in surprise.

The other nodded. "You know something of galaxies…planets, and gravity. Imagine that all these worlds are stars, orbiting around a central world… World Prime, as we call it. The worlds closest to World Prime are most alike to it…their times run parallel; the people and the events are closer together. But the farther away from this center you get the more aberrations there are…time skips forward or backward a century…people die that should not have died…indeed, a world may exist where genders are switched."

"Okay," said Harry, taking it all in. "So my world is closer to the center? That's why the worlds I have gone to have been closer to it in time?"

"Yes. In fact…your world is very close to Prime. So close, in fact, that they run almost parallel. There is one Dumbledore who has made extensive notes on the matter...he visited your world, with the aid of his self there in fact. They were of the belief that it runs almost exactly parallel with Prime."

"And what does that mean?" said Harry.

"It means that if one wanted to upset the balance of the worlds, your own would be the perfect place to start. I'm certain you've already been warned of the danger of your situation…"

He trailed off, leaving Harry another few moments to think. "So you're warning me to stop now?" asked Harry.

"Well, what use would that do? I know you well enough to know that once your mind is made up it's made up."

"And don't I know it too." The pair looked up to the head of the stairs. "The family just got here. Time for dinner, boys," said the older Ginny.

The two of them returned back upstairs, where an older man who looked very much like Harry was seated next to a woman his own age, whose black hair was shaggily cut. She glanced up at Harry, green eyes twinkling. "Ooh, you finally brought one home grandpa!" she said with a giggle. "I never realized how handsome you were!"

"Where do you think this family gets it's good looks," said the man, ruffling her hair and sending her into squeals of protest.

"Is that any way to treat a fledgling auror?" she pouted, smoothing the rumples in her robes.

"When your gramps is your boss it is," said the elder Harry. "Now pass the potatoes."

Harry and Ginny were seated ceremoniously at the end of the table, where they watched a man…who might one day be their son…speak about everything from Quidditch to the Ministry with the older Harry.

When they finally were led back to the garden, where the older Ginny held the small statuette that had brought them there, they found themselves clinging on to one another.

"They're so happy," said Ginny with a whisper. "Did you hear? Their son's name…Albus…"

"Albus Severus, to be precise." Harry felt his hand enveloped once again. "I know it sounds stupid now but trust me…you'll warm up to it once you run out of ideas after naming Lily and James."

"I love you," said Ginny with a warm smile. "Both of you." She handed Harry and Ginny the trophy and they felt themselves transported away, once again, as Harry realized for the first time that his journey had barely begun.


	14. The Gathering of the Fellowship

**All Roads Traveled**

**Chapter 14: The Gathering of the Fellowship**

Harry stared for several moments in the mirror, straightening the collar of his robes and trying, once again unsuccessfully, to flatten his hair. After determining there wasn't much he could do to make himself any more presentable, he made his way down to the Weasley kitchen.

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry rounded the corner on his soon to be father-in-law seated at the breakfast table.

"Harry. Why don't you sit down and have some breakfast?" he said genially, setting down the newspaper he'd been perusing a moment before.

"No…that's all right," he said. "I really don't think I could eat right now."

"Hmm." Mr. Weasley shrugged, picking up his briefcase as he got to his feet. "Mrs. Weasley won't like that. We'd better leave before…"

"Before what dears?" As if he'd said the proverbial magic words, Mrs. Weasley appeared from around the corner, a plate piled high with toast and jam balanced on one hand. "Harry, you weren't thinking of leaving without having a bite to eat were you?" she admonished.

"Actually, I was. I'm really not hungry…I promise I'll have a big lunch though, to make up for it."

"Nonsense." Mrs. Weasley sat the food down on the table, pressing firmly on his shoulder until he consented to sit down. With a sigh, Mr. Weasley sat back down beside him, shooting an amused glance in Harry's direction. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You'll need it for your big meeting."

Without much ado Mrs. Weasley sat down with the pair. "And about that meeting…"

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry started in exasperation.

"Oh no, dear, I wasn't trying to find out what it was about," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "I mean, if you haven't told me…your own mother-in-law…what's it about, I'm sure you have a good reason…"

"Molly, he'll tell us soon enough what it's all about," said Mr. Weasley. Taking a large bite of toast, Harry chewed very methodically until several minutes later he'd finished enough of his meal he thought he'd be able to leave the room without her snapping his head off.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to get going," he said. Mr. Weasley rose once again, and this time there was no…or at the least, very little…protest from Mrs. Weasley as Harry tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace and the pair stepped through together.

The familiar hustle of the Ministry was made evident to Harry first through sounds and then through the sight of hundreds of witches and wizards, as well as a number of other magical creatures, parading along the strip that led up and down the great hall. Harry stepped out in the crowd, pausing immediately when he stood at the base of the large statue that stood at its center.

"Brings back old times, eh?" said Mr. Weasley, patting him on the shoulder.

"It does," said Harry. He had not had much opportunity to think of the night that he and the others had ended up at the Ministry, on their supposed 'rescue mission'. In fact, for a long time the only memory of that night that remained clear in his mind was the moment that Sirius had fell through the veil. For a few moments he allowed himself to remember what had come immediately after—the great battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort, where he had seen for the first, and last, time the full power of his mentor unleashed.

"Ready, son?" Harry jumped, startled out of his reverie.

"Yes, I am."

He followed Mr. Weasley, for the second time in his life, through the crowded halls to the security officer. Wherever he went people turned to stare at him. Loud whispers followed his path, and more than once he heard his name spoken.

The guard who took his wand seemed to stare at it for several moments longer than was necessary, handing it along with his visitors badge back to him with a sort or reverence that, though now common to Harry, was more than a little discomforting.

"Right. I've got to get back to my office, Harry, so I'll let you find Kingsley on your own. You know which floor to head to?"

"I've been informed," said Harry. He shook Mr. Weasley's hand, and as they stepped into the hall of elevators made their way into different cars, each going in a different direction.

There was only one other passenger in the elevator as he made his way to Kingsley's floor. A rather lean, tawny fellow who looked as if he spent much of his time outdoors leaned on the wall opposite Harry, seemingly paying little attention to him. The elevator stopped at a floor announced as the headquarters of the Magical Game and Wildlife Commission. As the door began closing back behind him, a package wrapped in thick brown paper slipped out of the satchel he was carrying.

"Hey, wait!" Harry called, but it was too late. The doors closed before he had a chance to get the man's attention and, promising himself he'd get it back to him after his meeting, Harry picked up the item and slipped in into his pocket.

_Office of the Minister of Magic, all Visitors Please Sign in With the Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, _the voice announced. Harry stepped out into the long carpeted hallway. To the right a large window had been enchanted to resemble the view from the rooftops of London. Harry stared at it for a few seconds, then taking the hall to the left made his way to the small desk where the Junior Assistant sat.

"Hey, Dean," said Harry, advancing toward the tidy desk where his old classmate sat.

"Harry! Hey, man!" Dean shot up, grabbing hold of Harry's hand. "Kingsley told me he was expecting you! Man, I haven't seen you since…well…" he grinned sheepishly. "I meant to go to Ron and Hermione's wedding but I had some family business of my own. Kingsley told me it was a riot, though. And I just heard about you and Ginny! Congratulations."

"Thanks," said Harry. "You know, if it wasn't for you I might not have gotten together with her."

"Is that so?" said Dean, grinning in amusement. "You know, that was one of the things we used to fight over."

"What do you mean?" Keeping his eye on Dean as he swung back around and dropped into his seat, Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, you know. I thought she was only dating me to make you jealous. I mean, we were on the same Quidditch team, and in the same class. Turns out I was right after all, but if I'm losing out to anybody at least it's you, right? Anyway, I'm pretty glad I got the girl I got. You remember Romilda Vane?"

Harry developed a sudden coughing fit, remembering the girl that had tried…and failed…to give him a love potion in his sixth year. Dean started laughing and leaned over his desk, turning a large leather-bound book over to Harry. "I figured you would," he said. "No worries, mate. She's grown up a bit. Here, sign this for me and I'll go tell Kingsley you're here."

Shaking Dean's hand one final time, Harry remained standing as his old friend disappeared through the door to Kingsley's office. He returned a moment later. "Right. You can go on in," he said.

Harry stepped through the elegant glass doors of the Minister's office. The interior of the office was a deep, rich blue, with mahogany walls that perfectly matched the large desk that sat at the center of the room. A large statue made of silver sat beside the desk, and on the other side there was a model of the solar system that seemed to be in constant movement. Harry started as he saw the face staring back at him from over the shoulder of the man behind the desk. Dumbledore nodded toward him from the painting, half-moon glasses glinting familiarly.

"Glad to see you again, Harry. I hear that congratulations are in order," said Kingsley, gesturing for him to take a set after shaking his hand.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, thank you sir." Harry tried to sit up straight in his chair.

"No need to be so formal. So tell me Harry, what brings you here today?"

Harry cleared his throat, scrambling for the right words to phrase what he was about to say. "I was wondering, sir…Kingsley…if you might still be willing to give me a job."

There was a long moment of silence. When Harry looked up he saw that Kingsley was examining him thoughtfully, fingers knitted before him. "You mean the position with the Auror Office?" he asked finally.

"Yes, Kingsley."

"Of course it's open. I've been wondering when you'd come around."

Harry smiled. "Well…yes. I guess I needed time to think. And actually…if you don't mind listening, I have a few ideas."

Kingsley raised his brows, nodding as he leaned back in his chair. "Any ideas you have are worth listening to, Harry. So, what are you thinking?"

"Well, sir. I was thinking that we might be able to change some things about the way the office operates…"

"Oh."

Harry suddenly felt that he had overstepped his bounds. He was in the middle of preparing an apology, or making up an excuse to brush off what he had said, when Kingsley finally spoke up.

"I've been wondering about that myself," he said. "The Auror's Office was thoroughly unsuccessful in doing any real good in the Second Wizarding War. And I'm ashamed to admit, as former head of that department, that it wasn't only because of the Ministry's mishandling of the situation. It has been my hope since becoming Minister that I find somebody willing to enact real change within the department."

Harry was now sitting up in his seat and listening intently to what Kingsley was saying. "Harry," he continued, "I believe that the person who can do that is you. And if you decide to join the Auror Department, I fully intend to make you head of it."

"Head of the Auror Department?" said Harry in surprise. "I don't know, sir. I hardly know if my idea is even going to work."

"Then perhaps we should strike up a deal?" said Kingsley. "I'll give you a year. In that time you are allowed to use whatever techniques you wish, but you must act with the people that I hire and work within my rules. If, at the end of a year, your way is successful, you'll become the acting Head of the Auror Office. So," Kingsley said, staring straight at Harry, "What were your ideas?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I actually got my idea from muggle law enforcement, sir," he said. "Muggle detectives don't have the tools we have to catch criminals…not the spells, not the equipment. The best of their technology can track a person based on their genes, but it's still very limited. And yet they still manage to catch a great many criminals by figuring out the way the criminal mind works. It's called Profiling."

Kingsley twined together his fingers. "It sounds rather like something Miss Granger…I'm sorry, the new Mrs. Weasley…would have thought of," he said.

"She was the one who actually mentioned it to me. She said one time that the reason I was the best person equipped to defeat Voldemort…well, apart from the obvious," he said with a cautious smile, "was that I got into his head…I could tell what he was thinking, how he was feeling. And even though a lot of what happened in the war was luck, a lot of it I did because I could guess what he would do."

"So you mean that you'd like to study the criminal mind? As in, that science the muggles call Psychology?"

"I would sir. And…if you'd be agreeable…I'd like to take classes in Psychology and profiling while I'm working as an Auror."

Kingsley nodded. "I'll admit that I'm intrigued, though I wonder how that will translate to the mind of Dark Witches and Wizards. But I agreed to give you your chance, so the next year is yours Harry, to do with what you will." Kingsley stood and Harry followed suit, shaking his hand again.

"Come on. Let me show you the office and let you meet your new partners. You'll start tomorrow morning."

****

The office was already buzzing by the time Harry and Kingsley made their way inside. A wiry, dark-haired man was seated at the first desk and when Harry entered with the Minister of Magic he dropped the pile of parchment he'd been working on, mouth hanging open in shock.

"Goldstein, right?" said Harry.

"Yeah! Anthony. Wow, Harry Potter! And…and of course it's good to see you, minister," he said as he struggled to contain himself.

Four other heads poked around the corner as they overheard the exchange. The smallest of them squeaked in surprise when he saw Harry standing there, and darted around the corner, standing at attention in front of him.

"Dennis Creevey, sir! Do you remember me?"

"How could I forget?" said Harry. He took Dennis's hand. "I hadn't heard you were an Auror."

"I just started a month ago!"

"Don't worry, you get used to his enthusiasm." A tall, slim girl in black robes took Harry's hand next.

"Katie, it's really great to see you."

"Same to you Potter. Always thought I'd end up with you on the National Quidditch Team, but this will have to do." She winked at him as he turned around. Ernie Macmillan was there also, and a black boy that Harry remembered had belonged to Slytherin, by the name of Blaise Zabini. The last of the group greeted Harry with a firm hug rather than a handshake.

"Nice to see you again, Susan."

"Just like old times!" she said with a cheerful grin. "Like the DA is back together again. Well, almost," she said, flicking her gaze in Zabini's direction. "So what brings you around here?"

"Harry is going to be joining your team," said Kingsley. "Part-time, for the next year, but I expect his role to increase dramatically after that time. Katie, give him the tour while I dredge up the paperwork and have Thomas send it over. And Harry…you get me the class listings for the nearest muggle university. We'll work things out from there."

Without any more ado Kingsley left the room. Katie, wisely avoiding the obvious questions, gave him a brief tour of the space including the small cubicle that was soon to be his. Harry sighed, stepping into the small space. He thought suddenly of Tonks standing in the brightly lit, gray room, feeling a sudden pang of guilt. He'd have to remember to get Ginny over to the Tonks home to see little Teddy. The last time he'd seen him had been a few months prior, when he was going through a phase of turning all his grandmother's hard candies into jellied slugs.

"Well," he said to nobody in particular. "I ended up here after all."

"No worries," said Katie, peeping around the corner. "We all expected you would sooner or later. Your partner for the foreseeable future is going to be Dennis, by the way. It'll be a while before Kingsley lets you handle the big cases. You have to have more experience for that."

She whipped back around before Harry could look up to see if she was joking. Then, thinking about what she'd said, he felt a smile creep onto his face. All things considered, he was going to do fine.


	15. The Age of Bronze

**All Roads Traveled**

**Author's Note: **We're beginning to lay the hints for what may prove to be a very interesting visitation to this story. Do not be alarmed. If you pay attention and watch closely you might even see it coming.

**The Age of Bronze**

"Mynie! Set the gauges to full steam!"

"Spot on!" From her perch at the topmost tower of Hogwarts College of Steam Engineering, Mynie Granger was making the final alterations to the battlements. She adjusted several levers and then paused, pulling her bronzed goggles down over her face before making the final switch. A cloud of steam surrounded her. After a long moment her hand appeared from the midst of the cloud in an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Harold Potter, at the base of the tower, checked the output of several dials. Everything seemed to be going smoothly—a small comfort considering the task ahead.

Their position at the northwest corner of the castle was most precarious. From there one didn't have the protection of the mountains that formed a crest behind the school—the only protection they had from aerial assault. And the wide lake below, along with the thick forest at the base of the college, was more than enough to at least slow down an onslaught of mechanical beasts.

The castle itself was an amalgamation of stone and bronze that shone brightly in the morning light. Metal pipes carried the steam that gave everything within the school it's power—a large furnace at the edge of the lake supplied the steam. A perfect clockwork building, and Harold himself had largely had a hand in it's creation.

Mynie scrambled down the scaffolding, taking hold of burning-hot pipes with hands encased in thick leather. She finally jumped the last few feet to the bottom where Harold caught her, hands wrapping protectively around her waist.

"Stop!" she laughed. Harold grinned and, leaning forward, kissed her soundly on the lips.

"You've got soot all over me," she said, gently nudging him away.

Harold stood stiffly, brushing ineffectively at the soot that covered the front of his vest and trousers. His only concession to the work that he was doing was the pair of goggles, similar to Mynie's, that rested on his brow and a tool-belt filled with all the implements of his trade worn holster-like at his hip.

Mynie was far more casual. It wasn't by any means proper for a lady to wear trousers but she was outfitted in a pair made of thick, starched wool. A waistcoat and ruffled blouse gave her at least a little semblance of dignity, an effect enhanced by several decorative cogs and gears worn at her ears and wrists.

"I think we ought to leave it for now," said Mynie. "Luna said she had something most important to show us."

Harold nodded. "Let us be on with it, then. Professor Riddle fast approaches."

Luna Lovegood stood at the window of her tower, enjoying the breeze that wafted in from the lake below. Unlike her counterparts, she was dressed formally. An evening gown of powder blue and silver, fully corseted and bustled, complemented her slight frame. There was a supper in the chambers below—of celebration or defeat, one could not say. She regretted that there would be dancing but was fond of the nibbles, and promised herself that as soon as she had showed Harold and Mynie what she had found that she'd treat herself to a heaping plateful.

In the wide room around her there were chalkboards full of numbers and symbols—obscure scribblings that most knew only the authoress herself could understand and some believed were entirely fiction. Luna was not perturbed by this.

Since childhood she had seen things differently. Like Harold, who had grown up an Ordinary child and had always seen the potential of the world around him, she had always imagined the possibilities of her world. But it wasn't measured in steam and pipes; in gadgets and inventions. Her world had always been measured in time and space, and the idea of what vastness lay beyond the world she knew.

She moved to the center of the room. A great orb rested atop a stone obelisk. Several coiled wires formed a cage around the object, forming at the peak to twine together into a large needle that came to rest at exactly the center of the ball.

With a smile, she traced one gloved finger along the edge of the metal spire. Her greatest invention…and she would try it tonight, before the arrival of the Dark Master.

There were footsteps outside her door. "You've come," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Of course," said Harold with a grin. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"And what exactly is it?" said Mynie, raising her eyebrows.

"It is proof," said Luna, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Proof that there are worlds beyond that which we know. If we fall on the morrow then let it be known that progress was made on the eve of our destruction."

Mynie and Harold exchanged glances, but Luna was not to be discouraged. "Harold," she commanded. "Take hold of the steam receptacles and start the generator. The power flow must be kept at perfect pace of one-hundred kilonauts."

Without a word Harold did as he was ordered. "Mynie," said Luna. "Crank the power switch…that one there."

When the two were in position Luna moved to her space alongside the orb. On her command they began to work, and soon the coils around the sphere were filled with electrolic light. Luna grinned madly and suddenly the opposite wall seemed to disappear, replaced instead with a giant tear into nothingness, edged by glowing silver light.

"Yes…yes!" Luna moved toward the rift, but before she could look within her eyes opened wide. "Oh, my!" she shouted as two bodies came hurtling toward her. In the shock of the sudden arrival Harold and Mynie stopped what they were doing and rushed over to the aid of Luna.

Harry blinked up at the three faces staring down at him. "Not this again," he muttered, letting his head fall back on the ground.

"Oh…oh!" Hermione stammered. She was staring up at a woman that looked much like her, with flatter hair and a redder face.

"Harold Potter," said Harry's newest doppelganger. "How do you do? I must say, you look an awful lot like me."

"I look like a lot of people these days," said Harry, wincing as he got to his feet. He was trying to remember what he'd been doing just before he got sucked in. A meeting, he thought suddenly, wondering how he was going to explain that one.

"It worked," Luna breathed excitedly, voice rising to a melodious laugh. "It really worked!"

"So who exactly are you?" said Mynie.

"Well…we're you. Sort of," said Harry.

"From another world! Another world, another world," said Luna, half-singing to herself.

"Please excuse our friend," said Harold quietly. "She's rather…"

Harry raised his hand. "I have one at home," he said. "No need to explain."

Harold took a deep breath. "This does complicate matters," he said thoughtfully. "Who knows what manner of chaos could be caused by having you here on this—the eve of our possible ruin? Luna, they must be sent back…Luna?"

The young woman seemed lost in her own world. "She'll come around," said Harry and Harold in unison.

"What do you mean by 'eve of your ruin'?" Harry asked finally.

Harold shook his head. "The Dark Master is on the march with his clockwork army. His weapon…his sinister, evil weapon…"

"The Dark Master?" asked Hermione.

"Professor Riddle."

"Oh my God!" Hermione gasped, hand pressed to her lips.

A million implications went running through Harry's head. From first glance it was obvious that the world he had landed in was not one of magic…possibly not even the same time period, judging by their clothes. Now to hear that Riddle…could it be the same? It had to be, he reasoned. Riddle was on the march…and he'd been brought here for a reason.

"Until Luna comes around we'll help you," said Harry.

"How do you think you'll manage to do that?" said Harold.

"I've defeated Riddle before," he said, tapping the scar on his own forehead.

Harold reached up to touch the scar that marred his face. "Mine is nothing to be proud of," he said quietly. "I was foolish and young…and Professor Riddle's apprentice. Perhaps your story is different?"

"Very," said Harry. "And much the same."

Harold seemed to be appraising him. Finally he seemed to make a decision. "Obviously you know something," he said. "Our army is gathering as we speak. If you would do me the honor I'd ask that you come to dinner with us. And you as well…given a proper change of clothes," he added.

"What?" said Hermione.

"What's wrong with trousers?" said Mynie.

"Nothing…you look fine my dear. But the make of what this woman from another world wears is most unusual."

Hermione glanced down at herself. She was wearing her usual knocking-about jeans and a baggy jumper. Mynie sighed and took her by the hand. "Come along," she said, and without even asking her permission dragged her way. Harry and Harold could hear her protests from halfway down the hall.

"I am pleased to have a moment alone with you," said Harold. "As I have devised a way that may defeat Riddle's clockwork armor. But I fear…" He paused, appearing crestfallen.

"What is it?"

"I must go inside the belly of the beast, so to speak," said Harold. "I will die if I do what I must. And yet you live," he said turning to Harry. "Are our worlds so different?" he asked.

"You have no idea," Harry muttered. "But never mind that…I want to hear more. I don't know much about this…steam stuff," he said, gesturing at the room full of gadgets. "But I know about war and strategy."

Harry ticked it on the list of what would probably be one of the most surreal experiences of his life. Professor Dumbledore, in a tweed jacket and black trousers, sat at one end of a long table smoking a pipe. Beside him sat Professors McGonagall and Snape, in a high-colored black silk gown and dark dinner jacket. He spotted the Weasley twins in formal suits but there was no sign of Ginny or Ron.

Harold left him for a moment at the door and went over to Professor Dumbledore. The man started, and then peered off into the darkness. After a long moment he began to wave him over and Harry entered the room, which fell silent as he came into view.

Nobody seemed to make much sense of it, but there were far more pressing matters at hand. Apart from Snape's determined efforts to have Harry examined to be certain he wasn't clockwork (which, upon finding a belly-button and nipples seemed to appease him) he seemed almost quickly forgotten, by all but Dumbledore.

The old man stared at him through steepled fingers. "So," he said, "You come from another world."

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

"What manner of world?" he asked quietly. "You are not a steam engineer. You have no redness, no callous on you hand. Your face has not borne the rage of a steam engine. So what manner of man are you?"

Harry coughed a few times. "A…a wizard, sir," he said.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Nonsense. Pure madness, sir," Snape began to mutter quickly.

"A moment, if you will," said Dumbledore. "You mean to claim that you possess magic? This is an ancient fairy tale, if you'll pardon me."

"Then I'll show you," said Harry. He took out his wand—there were a series of gasps. He thought for a moment, and unable to help himself pointed his wand straight at Professor Snape. The man reeled backward and Harry turned back around. _Might as well get away with that the once chance I'll ever have,_ he thought with a smirk.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted. A silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and galloped gallantly around the wide chamber twice, finally coming to stand beside Harry until it vanished. The crowd, with the exception of Snape, began to applaud.

"Another!" cried a young woman. Was that Lavender Brown?

"All right." Harry pointed his wand at a large goblet that was laying on the table. "Evanesco." The cup shimmered and then disappeared. There was another spattering of applause and Harry was yet again urged to perform.

He put out his wand and was just about to speak when there was a commotion at the door. Mynie, still in trousers and a jacket, appeared next to Hermione, who was wearing an amethyst colored gown, her frizzy hair topped with a small tophat. Harry lost concentration and a shower of sparks flew out of his wand. He apologized profusely and with an embarassed nod to Harold took his seat.

"Sorry it took so long," said Hermione, sitting next to him.

"You look really…I mean…I've never seen you…"

Harry stopped, seeing the warning signs of temper on Hermione's face. "You're beautiful," he said.

"Not bad for being thrown through space after lounging half the day in my mucking about clothes," she said, sipping gingerly at her juice.

Harry and Hermione mostly remained silent as the conversation turned to the impending war. It was something that neither was really experienced in…though of course Hermione had read something about it here, or there, and as always was just brilliant enough to make up for any ignorance that she had about the matter.

They retired after the dinner with Mynie and Harold to the top of the tower where Luna had been laid to sleep, still in full gown. "Have you decided then?" said Mynie to Harold as he moved to the window.

"What choice do I have?" he said. "I'll die but I might just save the rest of you. It's a choice I have to make."

"You're a bloody fool," Mynie burst out, then gathering him to her she began to cry into his lapels.

"So…I ah…take it you're an item," said Harry. "You know…a couple," he said, glancing awkwardly over at his best friend.

"We're more than that," said Mynie. "We're married. Aren't you?"

"Not exactly," said Harry, biting his lip. "She's married though…Ron Weasley, you know him right?"

"Ron Weasley?" Mynie snorted. "He couldn't put together a basic engine from a Georgian blueprint!" she said.

"He's really quite nice," said Hermione with a bright blush.

"Never mind that. I think I have an idea on how you can save the day without getting yourself blown up," said Harry. "Do you know exactly how it works?"

"I helped him build the blasted thing," said Harold.

"Then let's get started."

Harry and Hermione watched the battle from the top of the tower. "Watch, there it goes," said Hermione as the enormous clockwork suit of armor began to fall to the ground.

On the ground was the prototype of Luna's conductor. All night long they had charged it with magical energy…not enough to cause major damage to the castle, but just enough to bring down a giant mechanical monster. With a carefully aimed shot at the 'nerve center' of Riddle's monster they had managed to disable it in a manner of seconds.

Harry had of course explained to Harold that while climbing inside the monster and disabling it from the inside hadn't been a bad idea, magic certainly made the task a bit easier and a lot less deadly.

"Isn't it sort of cheating?" said Hermione. "I mean, they weren't supposed to have had magic."

"Maybe they were," said Harry. "Why else would Luna have brought us here?" he said.

Hermione shrugged. "I just want to get home Harry. This corset is a nightmare." Harry stood first and helped her to her feet.

"I was wondering," said Harry thoughtfully. "What it would have been like."

"What?"

"If we'd gotten together instead," said Harry. "Do you ever think about it?"

Hermione was quiet for several moments. "Every day," she said thoughtfully. Then with an impish grin she kissed him on the cheek. "Would have driven each other mad. Although…and don't tell Ron…I really did have a mad crush on you back in first and second year."

And with that she skipped down through the window. "Women," said Harry, rolling his eyes, and with that followed her through the window and, eventually, home.


End file.
